A Different Story, But The Same
by WitchlingGirl
Summary: What if Harry had three sisters? And what if only James was killed by Voldemort? And what if Sirius wasn't sent to Azkaban? What if he had a daughter? Read to find out! Doesn't follow Harry, follows his sister, Elizabeth. Rating & Title subject to change.
1. Chapter 1: The Boy Who Lived

**Author's Note: I've rewritten this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I wish. **

**Chapter One**

**The Boy Who Lived**

The Potters lived a simple, but good life, even if they have been in hiding since 1980. They have lived in Godric's Hollow since. On July thirty-first, 1980, their first child, a son, was born. His name is Harry James. On May first, 1981, their friends, the Blacks, had their first child, a daughter, named Rhiannon Melody. On August thirty-first, 1981, the Potters had their first daughter, her name is Elizabeth Lily. On June twelfth, 1982, their third child was born, a girl named Sarah Hyacinth. Now, Harry, Elizabeth, and Sarah have rarely been outside of their house for safety reasons. James and Lily Potter are being hunted down by the Dark wizard, Lord Voldemort.

Lily also happened to have a sister, but she hadn't spoken to her sister in many years. Her sister, she knew, had a son, about Harry's age, named Dudley. Lily had never seen her nephew, only a picture her sister had sent the last time she wrote.

Our story begins, however, on Hallowe'en of '83. It was a beautiful, autumn morning, the sun peeking in through the curtains. Everyone was sleeping soundly, until Sarah woke up. An argument of sorts immediately began in the master bedroom.

"Your daughter is awake," Lily muttered sleepily.

"After sunrise, she's your daughter," James countered.

"I got up with her yesterday," Lily murmured.

"_I_ got up with her three days in a row last week," James reminded her.

"That's because I was at Sirius's helping him with Rhiannon who had the dragon pox."

"Okay, how's this? You can get Sarah and I'll get Harry and Elizabeth, I'll even make breakfast. Deal?" James asked.

"Deal, but I'm making breakfast, ask the kids what they want," Lily said, flinging off the comforter. She rose out of bed, put on her slippers, and slipped into her dressing gown.

James flung off the rest of the comforter, threw a shirt on, and headed out the door with Lily. While she headed to the door across from their own, to where Sarah was still crying, James walked two doors down the hall to Elizabeth's room. He opened the door to find Elizabeth on her bed looking at a Quidditch picture book.

"Good morning, Daddy," she said.

"Morning, Lizzie," James said, sitting next to her.

"Can I play that?" she asked.

"When you're older," he answered.

"You teach me?"

"Yup," James replied. "How 'bout some breakfast? Mummy has Sarah downstairs."

"Okay," she said. "Up?" she asked, holding her arms up hopefully.

James scooped his daughter up. "Shall we go get Harry?" Elizabeth nodded.

They headed across the hall to Harry's room. James opened the door, Harry was on his bed, looking at the exact same book Elizabeth had been.

Harry looked up. "Hi, Daddy."

"Hey, Harry, d'you want something to eat?"

Harry nodded. "Well, come on, then." James held out his right hand. Harry clambered out of bed, and took his father's hand.

"What do you want for breakfast?" James asked his children, as they headed downstairs.

"Waffles!" Elizabeth shouted.

"Treacle tart!" Harry yelled.

"Lizzie, that was my ear."

"Waffles!" she whispered.

"Thank you. And, Harry, you can't have treacle tart in the morning," James said sternly.

"Why not?"

"Because treacle tart isn't breakfast food," James said.

"What about bacon?"

"You can have bacon for breakfast."

"Okay, I want bacon."

"Bacon it is. Does Lizzie still want waffles?"

She nodded, "Mhm."

They entered the kitchen. James put Elizabeth into her chair, which had a booster seat attached. Sarah was in her highchair, and Harry climbed onto his chair.

"Lizzie would like waffles and Harry wants bacon," James informed his wife.  
"Bacon and waffles coming up," Lily said. "What will you have?"

"Just toast, thanks," James said.

"Okay."

Soon the kitchen was filled with the smell of bacon, waffles, toast, and porridge.

"I was thinking, after the kids have their naps, we should take them out back to play with the leaves," James said.

So, the morning passed with Harry and Elizabeth on their toy broomsticks being chased by James, lunch, and napping.

The afternoon found the family outside playing.

"Mummy, look at me!" Elizabeth shouted, who was being buried by her father and brother in leaves.

"I see, Lizzie," Lily laughed, who could only see her daughter because of her red hair. Lily was watching Sarah, who was crawling on the ground. "Sarah, no! You can't eat dirt! Or rocks!"

Eventually, Lily brought Sarah into the house to make a dinner of fish and chips. Lily called to her husband to bring in the children, and clean them up for dinner.

"Look at you two, you're still filthy! You'll both need baths tonight," Lily said when they walked into the kitchen to eat.

"After supper?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes," Lily said.

So, after dinner and after the children were bathed, James was entertaining Harry and Elizabeth, in the sitting room, by making puffs of coloured smoke erupt from his wand. They laughed as they tried to grab the smoke, Harry in his blue pyjamas, and Elizabeth in pyjamas the same colour as her hair.

* * *

_James's POV_

"James, I have to bring Sarah to St. Mungo's, I think she might be sick with something," Lily called from our youngest daughter's room. I got up, and went to where Lily was, and pulled her into a deep, passionate kiss, which she returned.

"I'll be back in the morning, James," Lily said, when we broke apart.

"But I love you, Lily," I said smiling.

"I love you, too, James," Lily said.

I picked up Sarah, and kissed her on the forehead.

"And Daddy loves Sarah. Now be good for Mummy." I handed her to Lily. "Be careful." Lily nodded and headed out the door. I headed back to Harry and Elizabeth. I continued to blow puffs of coloured smoke, Harry and Elizabeth continued trying to catch the smoke, then it was different coloured bubbles, eventually Harry and Elizabeth got bored.

"Daddy?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes, Lizzie?"

"Can we ride our broomsticks?"

"I don't know…"

"Pease? Just for a half hour?"

"I guess."

"Yay!" Elizabeth said with delight, and with Harry, they went and got their broomsticks. After a couple minutes, Harry and Elizabeth returned; Harry was clutching the one he had received from Sirius for his first birthday. They mounted their brooms and took off, I chased after them for a half an hour until an owl fluttered in. I opened the letter, it was from Lily.

_Dear James,_

_It's all right; Sarah just has a bit of vanishing sickness. The Healer said it is very hard to tell, which is why it is named so, and we should watch Harry and Lizzie for symptoms. I'll be home with Sarah in the morning; they just want to make sure the potion they gave her worked. I was going to tell you this when I saw you, but I can't wait. James, I'm pregnant!_

_Love,_

_Lily _

I stifled my yelp of joy, we would tell Lizzie and Harry together.

I glanced at the clock, it read 9:00.

"Okay, you two, it is time for bed. When you wake up Mum'll be back," I said, as Harry and Elizabeth came in the room. They reluctantly got off their brooms and followed me up the stairs to their rooms. I turned to Harry, "Go to your room, I'll be there in a minute." Harry went; I followed Elizabeth into her room. She climbed into her bed.

"'Night, Lizzie. Love you," I said kissing her on the forehead.

"'Night, Daddy. Love you, too," she said sleepily. I extinguished the lamp and went to Harry's room. Harry was already in bed. I went through the same routine with Harry and was about to leave when a high, cold voice spoke.

"Well, isn't this _touching_?" Voldemort had his wand pointed at Harry, whose eyes didn't show fear, yet. I spun around slowly.

"Stand aside, Potter, you needn't die, just your son here," Voldemort said.

"Why kill a little boy? He hasn't done anything too you, yet. Kill me, instead. What's he done to you?" I said, although I knew what, I knew about the prophecy; Dumbledore had told us about it.

"He's done much by being born and living for three years," Voldemort answered. "Now stand aside."

"No. Kill me, instead, just don't kill Harry. Take me instead," I said.

"Move out of the way."

"Some would call it cowardice, killing your enemy before he can even defend himself, just because it's easier," I taunted.

"Stand aside, Potter."

"No. Take me instead."

"You don't have to die, Potter, just the boy."

"No." As Voldemort pointed his wand at me, my thoughts strayed to my children. Harry, who was the spitting image of me, except he had Lily's eyes, Elizabeth, who looked exactly like Lily, and Sarah, she too looked like Lily, only she had black hair. And my unborn child, who I would never know. It was almost tempting to come back as ghost and haunt Wormtail for betraying me and Lily. Lily. Poor Lily would come back and find all three of us dead. I pictured her face as Voldemort raised his wand.

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

And everything went black.

* * *

_From Harry's Perspective _

Harry watched as his father fell to the ground. Somehow, he knew it wasn't a game. Somehow, he knew is father would not be getting up from the floor again. Somehow, he knew the same thing would happen to him.

* * *

_Voldemort's POV_

I turned my wand on the child. The child hadn't cried out, nor was there any tears on his face. I opened my mouth to say the curse but the child spoke first.

"Coward," growled the child. _Like father, like son, how dare they call me a coward?_

"_Avada Kedavra_!" The curse rebounded on me and destroyed me, and the house. I was nothing.

* * *

_From Harry's Perspective_

He waited for something to happen, but nothing happened. Harry looked; Voldemort was no longer there, nor was there a body. He watched as the house crumbled. He heard Elizabeth scream.

* * *

_From Elizabeth's Perspective_

Elizabeth heard the stair creak, she opened her door to see if it was the cat, but it wasn't, because the cat was right in front of her door. She brought him in, locked her door, and crawled back in bed quietly. She heard her father arguing with Voldemort, then she heard the Killing Curse, and saw green light, then Harry called Voldemort a coward, then silence. Tears were pouring down her face as she waited for Voldemort to come, but the house had started to crumble. Her door opened, Elizabeth tightened her grip on the cat. But instead of Voldemort, it was–

"Harry?"

* * *

_From Harry's Perspective_

Harry decided to go and get Elizabeth. He slipped out of bed –he didn't look at James– and walked to the room beside his. When he opened her door, she was clutching the cat, crying.

"C'mon Lizzie, let's go and send a letter to Padfoot, he can help us," Harry choked out.

They walked down the stairs into their sitting room, Harry grabbed a piece parchment, and a long, acid-green quill Lily had told them to use in emergencies. All they had to do, she had told them, was place the quill on the parchment, and tell it what to write, and it doesn't matter if they can't read. Harry placed the quill on the parchment.

"Padfoot, Help. Harry and Lizzie," he dictated to the quill. When the quill had stopped, he picked up the letter and gave it to the owl who took it in his beak, and flew off. Harry and Elizabeth sat on the couch, tears racing down their cheeks.

* * *

_Sirius's POV_

I had just returned from checking Wormtail's hiding place, when I was startledby James' owl when helandedin front of me. The letter was rather short.

_Padfoot–_

_Help._

_–Harry and Lizzie _

My insides turned cold. That could only mean one thing. Well, I already knew, but how in the name of Merlin were Harry and Lizzie still alive?

"You don't mind Apparition, do you?" the owl fluttered onto my shoulder, and its talons dug deep into my skin. "I'll take that as a 'no'," I muttered before darkness closed in on me. I opened my eyes to see Lily and James' house in ruins. It looked damaged beyond magical repair. Maybe Dumbledore can fix it? I walked into the house.

"Oomph," Two little bodies had attached themselves to my legs. I looked down to Harry's black hair, and Elizabeth's red. Then I was looking at their green eyes. I walked over to the sofa, and pried Harry off my leg, then Lizzie.

"Where's your mum and Sarah?"

"Hospital."

"Where's James?" I asked gently.

"I-in m-my r-room," Harry said.

I went upstairs, and I found James' body.

"Moony!" I heard Lizzie and Harry shriek with subdued joy.

* * *

_Remus's POV_

I had just put Elizabeth and Harry back on the sofa when Sirius came down.

"James is dead, Remus," he stated flatly. "What are you doing here?"

"I Apparated to your place, and found the letter from Harry and decided to come and see," I said. "Why did you do it?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why did you sell Lily and James to Voldemort?"

"Moony, do you honestly think I'd hand my best friends to Voldemort?" he asked incredulously. "I am no longer the Secret Keeper."

"Then if you're not Secret Keeper, who is?" I asked.

"Wormtail is."

"Peter?"

"I went to check his hiding place, and he wasn't there," Sirius said.

"Should someone tell Dumbledore? And what about Lily? Where is Lily?"

"The kids said she went to St. Mungo's."

"What for?" I looked down to see Lizzie tugging at my cloak.

"This came from Mummy." Sirius and I read it together. We were stunned.

"Let's write a letter to Dumbledore," Sirius said, grabbing a piece of parchment, a quill, and some ink.

_Dear Professor Dumbledore,_

_James is dead, but Harry is still alive, somehow. Lily took Sarah to St. Mungo's. Who is going to tell Lily? Moony and I are with the kids._

_From, _

_Sirius Black and Remus Lupin _

I gave it to the owl.

We sat on the sofa and slowly we all fell asleep.

* * *

_Lily's POV_

I came home only to find my house in ruins. I quickly ran into my house. I entered the sitting room, and found Harry, Lizzie, Remus, and Sirius fast asleep on my sofa. I put Sarah down, and went to look for James. I found him dead at the foot of Harry's bed. I stifled my scream, and ran down the stairs to wake Sirius and Remus.

"Sirius, wake up!"

"Why?"

"So I can hex you into next year!"

"You want me to wake up so you can hex me?"

"Yes."

"Lily, what would be the point? Hexing me into next year won't make James come back, you know," he said, pushing himself into a sitting position.

"I know. I dunno, I just feel so… lost without him. But is it true, Sirius, is _he_ really gone?" I asked.

"Yes, and now that you are back, I'm going to hunt Wormtail myself and kill him," Sirius said, making to get up off the sofa. I grabbed his arm. "What?"

"What about Rhiannon?" I asked him.

"She has you lot," he said.

"And what am I suppose to tell her when she asks where you are? I'm sorry, honey, but he's in Azkaban the rest of his life, because he avenged his best friend's murder?" I asked. "She's already lost her mother, she doesn't need to lose you, too. Speaking of Rhiannon, where is she?"

"Andromeda's looking after her," he answered. "Wait, how did you know Voldemort's gone?"

"There's already rumours going around, Harry's going to be very famous, and Lizzie's already a part of the story," I said, looking at my children still sleeping. I noticed a cut on Harry's forehead, it was in the shape of a lightning bolt.

Just then, the door burst open to reveal Dumbledore.

"Where is he?" Dumbledore asked, his voice low and dangerous, and his wand raised.

"Where is who?" I asked, seeing as just 'he' could refer to several people in my crumbling home.

"Sirius Black," he replied.

"It wasn't him, Professor! Peter was our Secret Keeper. We didn't think Voldemort would use Peter," I explained. Dumbledore lowered his wand.

"Where is Peter Pettigrew?"

"I don't know. Ask Sirius," I said. "But Professor, how is it Voldemort couldn't kill Harry? He's only three. How did a little boy stop him?"

"Alas, Lily, I'm not sure," Dumbledore said.

* * *

**Author's Note: Okay, so I rewrote this chapter, because I didn't really like the original. I know the POV still changes a lot, but I've inserted line breaks this time, and with Harry and Elizabeth, I know it sort of backtracks a bit, but I figured, we still need to see it through Elizabeth's perspective a bit, and Harry's. So, yeah, let me know if it's better or worse than the original. If it's worse, I'll stick the original back on. Okay, and I know I used some of the original in this.**


	2. Chapter 2: Harry's Acceptance

**Disclaimer: I don't own HP, J.K. Rowling does, if I did, Tonks, Fred, Dobby, Colin, and Lupin wouldn't have died.

* * *

**

**Chapter Two**

**Harry's Acceptance**

_Lily's POV_

_July 17th, 1991_

_Two weeks before Harry's eleventh birthday_

Hard to believe, but on Hallowe'en this year, it will have been eight years since… since he died. Eight years since I came home to find my husband dead. Eight years since Harry became famous. Eight years since Voldemort vanished. Eight years since Wormtail betrayed us. Seven years since Emma-Lynn was born. Poor Emma-Lynn. She'll never know her father, and Sarah doesn't even remember him. And Harry became famous. And he's famous only because he survived the Killing Curse. Famous for something that haunted him day and night. I warned him he might see the Thestrals, I'm not sure if he was too young or not.

Eight years since Wormtail went to Azkaban. Dumbledore was livid. Sirius thinks it's his fault, because he's the one who told us to switch over to Wormtail instead. But who would've guessed Peter Pettigrew would switch over to the Dark Side, the coward.

We still live in Godric's Hollow, but the Ministry of Magic kicked us out because they wanted to use our house as a memorial site, sort of, with Harry surviving the Killing Curse. Harry's supposed to go to Hogwarts this year. Lizzie's really mad, and jealous. I think Harry's a little apprehensive, because he's famous.

_Lizzie's POV_

It's not fair. Harry gets to go to Hogwarts this year. I want to go too, but Mum says I have to wait another year before I can go. I'm lucky my birthday is the day before school starts or I'd have to wait another two years. Emma has to wait another four years. So when she goes to Hogwarts, Harry'll be in his fifth year, I'll be in my fourth year, and Sarah'll be in her third year. But we're all jealous of Harry 'cause he finally gets to go to Diagon Alley. Mum said our first time should be special, and what's more special than being accepted into Hogwarts? If the letter comes before Harry's birthday, him, Mum, and Sirius'll go to Diagon Alley, while Sarah, Emma-Lynn, and I are home with Remus.

"Liz! Can you go wake Emma-Lynn?" Mum yelled up the stairs.

"Okay!" I shouted back, and trudged over to Emma's horrifically bright, cheery, yellow room.

"Emmy, time to wake up," I said as I lit the lamps. She didn't move. I walked into her room, over to her bed, and ripped the blankets back to find no Emma, but pillows. I ran downstairs into the kitchen.

"Mum! Emma's not in her room—" I started but was interrupted by a voice.

"—she's right here," it was Emma-Lynn. I glared at her and she grinned. I sat down and helped myself to the cornflakes, a piece of toast, and some pumpkin juice. A few minutes later, there was a tapping at the window. At first, I thought it was Basil, our Great Horned owl, when Mum let him in I realised it wasn't. The owl flew over to where Harry was and held out his leg. Harry untied the letter and I leaned over to see who it was from. On the front, written in emerald green ink it said:

Mr. H. Potter

The Second Largest Bedroom

7 Bowman Lane

Godric's Hollow

Harry turned the envelope over and opened it eagerly.

"Read it out loud, Harry!" I said excitedly.

"Okay," he unfolded the letter and started to read:

"'_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards. _

'_Dear Mr. Potter, _

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary book and equipment. _

_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl no later than 31 July._

_Yours sincerely,_

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress.'"

"Mum, how come I can't go?" I asked for, probably, the umpteenth time.

"Elizabeth Lily Potter, ask that one more time, and you won't be going, you'll be home schooled. And you can't go because you're not old enough, Dumbledore makes no exceptions, no matter how badly you want to go," Mum answered me, sounding half-exasperated, half-amused.

"What would we do without you, Lizzie?" Sarah asked in the most serious voice she could muster.

"I dunno, die of boredom, I s'pose," I answered trying not to laugh.

"We'd die without Lizzie here?" Emma asked.

"It's just a figure of speech, Emmy," Mum soothed.

"Oh…" Emma nodded her head.

"So, Harry, when do you want to go to Diagon Alley?" Mum asked him, he looked up at her surprised.

"I thought we were going on my birthday," Harry answered.

"I don't think I can stand two weeks of endless begging," Mum told him.

"Can we go today, Mum, please?" Harry asked eagerly.

"If Sirius and Remus aren't busy, then, yes, we'll go today," Mum said smiling. I opened my mouth to say something, but Mum saw. "Not a word," Mum said sternly as she headed over to the fireplace. I followed, as did my siblings. "I think I'll Apparate instead, _behave yourselves_, if you destroy the house you better hope Sirius comes back with me."

"Yes, Mum," we said in unison. There was a faint _pop_, and Mum was gone.

"I'm going for a walk," I told Harry as I grabbed my jacket.

"Where're you going?" Harry asked.

"Where I always I go," I answered. "If I'm not back before Mum is, just tell her I went for a walk." I opened the door, and left. I walked into the centre of Godric's Hollow. What looked like a war memorial to Muggles, (and witches and wizards until they passed it), stood there, but it changed as I passed it, now stood a statue of six people, my family: Mum's holding Emma-Lynn, Sarah's in Dad's arms, they're looking at Emma, while Harry and I stood at our parents' feet, looking up. I continued on my way to go visit Dad. I entered the graveyard, and made my way to Dad's. I finally what I was looking for.

_James Potter, born 27 March 1960, died 31 October 1983_

I flopped myself on the ground next to the grave.

"Hey, Daddy, I'm back, with some good news, and maybe bad news," I said. "Harry got his Hogwarts letter today; they might even go get his stuff today. I'm really jealous. I know deep down that I'm not ready to go yet, but I think I've attached myself to Harry, ever since you…, well, since… that night, and now, Harry's leaving us for a year, well, maybe not a _whole_ year, but a school year. I know I still have Sarah and Emma-Lynn. You didn't get to meet Emma, has Mum told you what she looks like? She looks like you, only her glasses aren't round, they're rectangular in shape." I kept talking like that for hours, until Mum came up behind me.

"Lizzie, have you been here ever since I left?" she asked. I nodded. "Remus couldn't find _anywhere_."

"My dark red hair and emerald green eyes doesn't help?" I asked, my eyes twinkling mischievously. "_And_ how many nine-going-on-ten year olds sit in a _graveyard_ talking to their _deceased_ father?"

"Come on, missy, back to the house, we're having dinner in a few minutes if Sirius and Remus didn't burn it when I left them to watch it."

"They probably did, remember Christmas last year?"

"Don't remind me," Mum said, and we both laughed as we walked home.

* * *

_Lizzie's POV_

_July 31st, 1991_

_Harry's eleventh birthday_

"Happy birthday, Harry!" we shouted as we burst into my brother's room, with a chocolate cake. He jumped at the noise, and quickly put his glasses. His face broke into a huge grin as he saw the cake and us.

"Make a wish, Harry!" Emma shouted excitedly. His grin faltered as he thought for a second, and then quickly blew out all eleven candles.

"What did you wish for?" I asked.

"If I tell you, it won't come true," he answered.

"Now I'm not sure if I want to give you your present," I said teasingly.

"Oh, Lizzie, give it to him while she's still awake," Mum said smiling. I lifted the cage that was at my feet, so Harry couldn't see it, and handed it to him, grinning like an idiot.

"Here is your own certified mail delivering snowy owl, and your friend. It is up to you to name her, though."

"Wow, thanks everyone," Harry said.

"You're welcome," we all chorused.

"Harry, just Sirius, Rhiannon, and Remus are coming over, and they'll be here soon," Mum said. He nodded.

"Mum, can we have the cake now?" Sarah asked.

"I suppose," Mum answered smiling slightly. "Come on, the lot of you."

* * *

"Happy birthday, Harry," Sirius said as he handed his godson his present. Harry tore open the package. It was book, titled, _Curses and Counter-Curses (Bewitch your Friends and Befuddle your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and much, much more) _by Professor Vindictus Viridian. 

"Thanks Sirius," Harry said.

"I noticed you looking at it when we were in Flourish and Blotts," Sirius said shrugging. Remus came into the room.

"Here you go, Harry, happy birthday," he said, giving Harry his present. It was a brand new wizard chess set.

"Thanks, Remus."

"No problem," he replied before turning to me. "So, Lizzie, what would you like for your birthday?"

"I dunno, it's only my tenth, and it'll be last night Harry's here before he goes Hogwarts," I said.

"All too soon, it'll be Sarah who's jealous of you," Remus said.

I sighed, "I know."

"Dinner's ready!" Mum called from the kitchen. We all followed Mum eagerly into the kitchen to have dinner, and Harry's favourite dessert, which hasn't changed for as long as I could remember– treacle tart.

* * *

_Lizzie's POV_

_September 1st, 1991_

_Journey to King's Cross_

"Liz, are you ready?" Mum asked me as I hurried out of my room.

"Yes, Mum," I answered; now rushing down the stairs.

"Mum, how're we getting there?" Emma asked.

"Sirius managed to borrow a car from the Ministry," Mum replied, "and he'll be here any second."

"Mum, I can't lift my trunk!" Harry called from his room.

"Hang on, Harry!" Mum shouted, before rounding on Sarah, Emma, and me. "Go and put your shoes and jackets on, quickly!"

I had just finished tying Emma-Lynn's shoes when Sarah shouted, "Mum, he's here!"

"You three go out and tell Sirius we're coming," Mum yelled back.

I had just ushered my sisters out the door, and was about to shut it when I heard Harry.

"Hang on, Lizzie, I'm coming," he called out, carrying Hedwig. He flew out past me, I was about to close the door _again_, when Mum came out and set the trunk down.

"Go get in the car, Liz," she said as she locked the door. I ran into the back seat of car, and found myself next to Rhiannon. She had father's dark hair, and from what everyone says– her mother's violet eyes.

"Hey, Sirius. Hey, Rhiannon," I said when I had shut the door.

"Hey, Lizzie," they greeted. Nobody talked much once Mum had gotten in. I looked out the window, as we rode along. In a surprisingly short time, we had arrived at King's Cross with fifteen minutes to spare. As we clambered out, the driver went to find a trolley for Harry's trunk. The driver came back and bade us good-bye, and drove away. Sirius took Harry's trolley and began to push it with Emma and Sarah on it. I took Mum's hand as Sirius led us towards platform nine and three quarters, and Rhiannon followed beside us. We were almost at platforms nine and ten, a group of people walked by us. I caught a snatch of what they were saying.

"–packed with Muggles, of course–" The speaker was a plump woman who was talking to four boys, all with flaming red hair. Each of them had a trunk like Harry's in front of him, and what looked like the oldest boy had an owl. When they stopped, so did Sirius, but just near enough so we could hear what they hear what they were saying.

"Now, what's the platform number?" the boys' mother asked.

"Nine and three quarters!" a small girl piped, also red-headed, who was holding her mother's hand. "Mum, can't I go…"

"Remind you of anyone?" Mum asked me quietly.

"Nope, can't think of anyone," I whispered smiling.

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first," the mother said.

The eldest boy marched towards platforms nine and ten. I watched carefully; Mum, Sirius, and Remus had been very secretive about how to catch the train. Just as the boy reached the divide between the platforms, a large crowd of people came swarming in front f him, and by the time, the last rucksack had cleared away, the boy had vanished.

"Fred, you next," the plump woman said.

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," the boy said. "Honestly, woman, call yourself our mother? Can't you _tell_ I'm George?" I bit my lip to keep myself from laughing, I noticed Sirius was smiling, and even a smile was twitching at the corner of Mum's mouth.

"Sorry, George, dear."

"Only joking, I am Fred," the boy said, and off he went. When he had gone through, his twin followed. Now it was the youngest boy's turn. He was tall, thin, lanky, with freckles, big hands and feet and a long nose. He took a run at the barrier and was gone, his mother and sister followed.

"Okay, Harry, all you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop, and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous," Mum said. Emma and Sarah jumped of Harry's trolley at the horror of what they had heard.

"Lizzie's not scared, are you, Lizzie?" Sirius asked me, grinning. I shook my head and sat myself down on Harry's trunk. He quickly broke into a run, and headed towards the ticket box. We were about a foot away, I looked at Harry and he had his eyes closed. The next second, we were facing a scarlet steam engine; the platform packed. Sirius, Rhiannon, and Sarah appeared behind us.

"Can you tell Mum I went to find a compartment?" Harry asked Sirius. Sirius nodded, I was about to get off when Harry shook his head, so I stayed. Harry pushed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the train. Harry put Hedwig in first, and then I got off his trunk so we could put in on the train. When we had it close to the train door, came the task of putting it on the train. We tried to lift it up the stairs, but could hardly raise an end, and twice it dropped painfully on _my_ foot.

"Want a hand?" it was one of the red-haired twins we had followed through the ticket box.

"Yes, please," Harry panted.

"Oi, Fred! C'mere and help!"

With the twins' help, Harry's trunk was at last placed in a corner of the compartment.

"Thanks," Harry said pushing his hair out of his eyes.

"What's that?" one of the twins asked suddenly, pointing at Harry's scar.

"Blimey," the other twin said. "Are you–?"

"He _is_," interrupted the first twin. "Aren't you?" he added to Harry.

"What?" Harry asked.

"_Harry Potter_," the twins chorused.

"Oh, him," Harry answered. "I mean, yes, I am."

The two boys stared at Harry, and Harry was going red, so I spoke.

"That's right, just ignore the red-haired girl, because nobody else _could_ possibly exist while they're next to the great and mighty Harry Potter, even if said girl is related to him!" I said sarcastically.

"And who might you be?" one of the twins asked while they both looked at me.

"I'm Harry's younger sister, Elizabeth, better known as Lizzie," I said, now smiling.

"Fred and George Weasley," one of the twins said. "Just out of curiosity, when are you going to Hogwarts, Lizzie?"

"Next year, I turned ten yesterday," I replied, "but I'd like to go now."

"You know, you sound like our younger sister, Ginny, would you like to meet her?" the other twin said.

"Fred? George? Are you there?"

"Coming, Mum."

With a last look Harry, the twins jumped off the train.

One of them looked back at me, "Come on, Lizzie, we don't bite."

I looked at the twins and back at Harry uncertainly, unsure of what to do.

"Go on, I'll be fine," Harry said.

"I'll tell Mum and Sirius where you are, shall I?" I hopped of the train and followed the twins.

"Ron, you've got something on your nose," their mother said to the youngest boy. He tried to get out of the way, but his mother grabbed him, and began rubbing at the end of his nose.

"_Mum_– geroff," he wriggled free.

"Aaah has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?" one of the twins said.

"Shut up," Ron said.

"Where's Percy?" their mother asked.

"He's coming now."

The oldest boy walked into sight. He'd already changed into his Hogwarts robes, and he had a shiny silver badge on his chest with the letter _P_.

"Can't stay long, Mother," he said. "I'm up front; the Prefects have got two compartments to themselves–"

"Oh, are you a _Prefect_, Percy?" one of the twins said, with an air of great surprise. "You should have said, we had no idea."

"Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it," the other twin said. "Once –"

"Or twice–"

"A minute–"

"All summer–"

"Oh, shut up," Percy said. I stood by the twins quite forgotten, and unnoticed.

"How come Percy gets new robes anyway?"

"Because he's a _Prefect_," their mother answered fondly. "All right, dear, well, have a good term– send me an owl when you get there." she kissed Percy on the cheek and he left. She turned to the twins.

"Now, you two– this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've– you've blown up a toilet or–"

"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet."

"Great idea though, thanks, Mum."

"It's _not funny_. And look after Ron."

"Don't worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us."

"Shut up," Ron repeated.

"Hey Mum, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?"

"You know that black-haired boy who was near us in the station? Know who he is?"

"Who?"

"_Harry Potter_!"

"Oh, Mum, can I go on the train and see him, Mum, oh please…"

"You've already seen him, Ginny, and the poor boy isn't something you goggle at in a zoo. Is he really, Fred? How do you know?"

"Asked him. Saw his scar. It's really there– like lightning," Fred answered.

"His sister's right here," George said.

"Oh, hullo, dear," Mrs. Weasley greeted.

"Hi, I'm Lizzie," I said.

"Where's your mother?"

"Probably looking for Harry and me," I answered. As if on cue, two smaller bodies attacked me, sending me to the ground.

"Sarah! Emmy! Get off of me!"

"Mum! Sirius! Rhiannon! We've found her!" Above me, I could here the twins speaking.

"Lizzie's going to Hogwarts the same time as Ginny, thought we could introduce them."

When Mum, Rhiannon, and Sirius had reached us, a whistle sounded. Mum and Sirius quickly pulled Sarah and Emma off me, and one of the twins pulled me to my feet.

"Hurry up!" Mrs. Weasley said. The three boys clambered on the train, and leaned out of the window for her to kiss them good-bye. The girl began to cry and I pointed Mum to Harry.

"Don't Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls."

"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat."

"_George_!"

"Only joking, Mum."

"Well, have a good term, Harry. Are you coming home for Christmas?" Mum said.

"I dunno, I'll write and let you know," Harry replied.

"Don't forget to write to me too," Sirius said. "And Remus has one message for you, 'Stay out of trouble, unlike your father and godfather, and I'd like at least _one _letter before the end of the year.'"

"Tell him I'll stay out of trouble, and I'll write."

The train started to move. Mum, Rhiannon, and Sirius began to wave, and Sarah, Emma, and I ran to keep up with the train. Emma and Sarah fell back after a couple of minutes, but I managed to keep up with Ginny, and the train, until it had gathered too much speed. We both fell back and waved until the train had rounded a corner.

"So, what's it like having four brothers?" I asked her.

"Actually, I have six, Bill and Charlie have already left Hogwarts," Ginny answered. "What's it like having two sisters?"

"Bit annoying actually, Sarah's a year younger than me, and Emma-Lynn's three years younger," I said as we walked back towards our mothers.

"I don't think we've been introduced," I heard Mum say to Mrs. Weasley, "but I'm Lily Potter and this is Sirius Black and his daughter, Rhiannon."

"Pleasure to meet you, I'm Molly Weasley."

While our mothers talked, Ginny, Rhiannon and I talked, mostly about our lives at first, then about Hogwarts. Ginny told me about what she had heard from her brothers.

"My brother, Fred, says we have to wrestle a troll to determine what house we'll belong to," Ginny said.

"That can't be right, Mum, Sirius, and Remus told us it's painless," I said.

"Good Lord! Is that the time? We had better leave, Sirius, or Remus is going to wonder what has happened to us," Mum said suddenly.

"Yeah, we should, well, it was nice meeting you," Sirius said shaking Mrs. Weasley's hand.

"Same to you," she replied. "Well, come on, Ginny, we had better go too."

"Bye, Ginny," Rhiannon and I said in unison.

"Bye, Lizzie, bye, Rhiannon!"

"See you next year?" I asked.

"Definitely."

As we walked into King's Cross station, I left with a happy thought. Only one year 'til I go on the train, and I'll have two friends already.

* * *

**Author's Note: Here's chapter two, finally! I'm sorry it took so long to update, it was mostly school keeping me from writing. Next chapter, Lizzie and Rhiannon are off to Hogwarts! By the way, do you think I should cover POA? I'm not too sure if I want to or not so, I'll leave it up to you. I can't wait for tomorrow! Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix comes out tomorrow!!!!! Except, I can't have it, 'til Christmas:(**


	3. Chapter 3: Dobby's Warning

**Disclaimer: I do not own HP, I wish I did, but I don't.

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**Chapter Three**

**Dobby's Warning**

_Lizzie's POV_

Harry's been acting strange, ever since he came back from Hogwarts. I finally asked him what was wrong, and he told me, but I'm not to repeat it to anyone. He found the Philosopher's Stone! And he fought Voldemort, and escaped him, again! And at Hallowe'en, he fought a mountain troll, and saved a Muggle-born, who's now his friend. He has all the fun.

Mum's been acting strange all day. She's having a guest over, and we have no idea who it is. She told us it's a surprise, but that doesn't explain why she rushed through dinner, and afterwards, sent us to our rooms. As Harry and I headed up the stairs, he was telling me about his first Quidditch match.

"My broom tried to throw me off, and if Hermione hadn't done something I would have fallen off," he said, opening the door. We went to go sit on his bed, but stopped in our tracks.

Trouble was, something was already on it. That something had large, bat-like ears, and bulging green eyes. The house-elf slipped off the bed, and bowed so low that the end of its nose touched the carpet.

"Hi," I said.

"Er– hello," Harry said nervously.

"Harry Potter!" the creature said in a high-pitched voice that I was sure it would carry downstairs. "So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, sir… Such an honour it is… And which sister is this?"

"I'm Elizabeth," I answered. "Who are you?"

"Dobby, miss. Just Dobby. Dobby the house-elf."

"Oh– really?" Harry said. "Er– I don't want to be rude or anything, but– this isn't a great time to have a house-elf in my room." The elf hung his head.

"Not that we're not pleased to meet you," I said quickly, "but is there any particular reason you're here?"

"Oh yes, sir and miss," Dobby said earnestly. "Dobby has come to tell you sir and miss… it is difficult, sir and miss… Dobby wonders where to begin…"

"Sit down," Harry said politely, pointing at the bed. To our horror, Dobby burst into very noisy tears.

"_S-sit down_!" he wailed. "_Never_… _never ever_…"

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, "I didn't mean to offend you or anything?"

"Offend Dobby!" the elf choked. "Dobby has _never_ been asked to sit down by a wizard– like an _equal_–"

Harry ushered Dobby back onto the bed, shushing him, and looked comforting at the same time, the elf sat hiccoughing. At last, he managed to control himself.

"You can't have met many decent wizards," Harry said trying to cheer Dobby up.

Dobby shook his head. Without warning, he leapt up and started banging his head on the window, shouting, "_Bad_ Dobby! _Bad_ Dobby!"

"Don't– what are you doing?" Harry hissed, jumping up and pulling Dobby back onto the bed.

"He had to punish himself," I supplied. "From the sounds of it, he almost spoke ill of his family."

"His family?"

"The wizard family Dobby serves, sir… Dobby is house-elf– bound to serve one house and one family forever…"

"Do they know you're here?" Harry asked curiously.

Dobby shuddered.

"Oh no, sir and miss, no… Dobby will have to punish himself most grievously for coming to see you, sir and miss. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door for this. If they ever knew, sir–"

"But won't they notice if you shut your ears in the oven door?"

"Dobby doubts it, sir. Dobby is always having to punish himself for something, sir. They lets Dobby get on with it, sir. Sometimes they remind me to do extra punishments…"

"But why don't you leave? Escape?" Harry asked.

"A house-elf must be freed, Harry," I answered.

"And the family will never set Dobby free… Dobby will serve the family until he dies, sir…"

"Can't anyone help you? Can't I?" Dobby dissolved into wails of gratitude.

"Please, please be quiet. If Mum hears anything, if she knows you're here…" I pleaded.

"Harry Potter asks if he can help Dobby… Dobby has heard of your greatness, sir, but of your goodness, Dobby never knew…"

"Whatever you've heard about my greatness is a load of rubbish. I'm not even top of my year at Hogwarts, that's Hermione, she–" but Harry stopped quickly, I looked at him.

"Harry Potter is humble and modest," Dobby said respectfully. "Harry Potter speaks not of his triumph over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Voldemort?" Harry and I said together.

Dobby clapped his hand over his ears and moaned, "Ah, speak not the name, sir and miss! Speak not the name!"

"Sorry," Harry said quickly. "I know lots of people don't like it– my friend, Ron…" Again, Harry stopped speaking. Dobby leaned towards Harry.

"Dobby heard tell," he said hoarsely, "that Harry Potter met the Dark Lord for a second time, just weeks ago… that Harry Potter escaped _yet again_."

Harry nodded and Dobby's eyes shone with tears.

"Ah, sir," he gasped, dabbing his face with a corner of the grubby pillowcase he was wearing. "Harry Potter is valiant and bold! He has braved so many dangers already! But Dobby has to protect Harry Potter, to warn him, even if he _does_ have to shut his ears in the oven door later… _Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts_."

"W-what?" Harry stammered. "But I've got to go back– term starts on September the first."

"No, no, no," Dobby piped, shaking his head. "Harry Potter must stay where his is safe. He is too great, too good, to lose. If Harry Potter goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger."

"Why?" Harry and I asked surprised.

"There's a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year," Dobby murmured trembling all over. "Dobby has known it for months, sir and miss. Harry Potter must not himself in peril. He is too important, sir!"

"What terrible things?" Harry asked at once. "Who's plotting them?"

Dobby began to bang his head madly against the wall.

"All right!" Harry cried, grabbing the elf's arm to stop him. "You can't say, I understand. But why are you warning _me_? Hang on– this hasn't got anything to do with Vol –sorry– with You-Know-Who, has it? You could just shake or nod," he added hastily.

Slowly, Dobby shook his head.

"Not– not _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_, sir."

Dobby's eyes were wide, and he seemed to be trying to give Harry a hint, but Harry was lost.

"He hasn't got a brother, has he?"

Dobby shook his head, his eyes wide.

"Well then, I can't think who else would have a chance of making horrible things happen at Hogwarts," Harry said. "I mean, there's Dumbledore, for one thing– you know who Dumbledore is, don't you?"

Dobby bowed his head.

"Albus Dumbledore is the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts has ever had. Dobby knows it, sir and miss. Dobby has heard Dumbledore's powers rival those of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named at the height of his strength. But sir and miss," Dobby dropped his voice to an urgent whisper, "there are powers Dumbledore doesn't… powers no decent wizard…"

Before either of us could stop him, Dobby had bounded off the bed, grabbed Harry's desk lamp and began beating himself 'round the head with ear-splitting yelps. There was a sudden silence downstairs. A couple of seconds later, we heard Mum coming into the hall calling, "I'll just see what they're up to and be right back."

"Quick! Hide him in the closet!" I said as I flung myself onto the floor making it look like I had just fallen off the bed.

"What are you two doing?"

"Nothing," we chorus innocently. Mum looked at us.

"Harry was giving me some well-deserved tickle torture, and in trying to escape, I fell off the bed, and here we are." Mum looked at us for a few more seconds.

"Well, just keep it down, all right?" After we nodded our heads, she left.

"That was brilliant, Liz," Harry said, a slight grin on his face.

"Thanks, but I think you need to let Dobby out of the closet," I said.

"Right," he let Dobby out. "Why can't I go back, Dobby? It's the only place I have friends my own age."

"Friends who don't even _write_ to Harry Potter?" Dobby asked slyly. How does Dobby know?

"I expect they've just been– hang on," Harry said frowning. "How do _you_ know my friends haven't been writing to me?"

Dobby shuffled his feet. "Harry Potter mustn't be angry with Dobby– Dobby did it for the best…"

"_Have you been stopping my letters_?"

"Dobby has them here, sir," Dobby said. As he stepped out of Harry's reach, he pulled out a thick wad of envelopes out of the pillowcase he was wearing. He looked anxiously at Harry.

"Harry Potter mustn't be angry… Dobby hoped… if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him… Harry Potter might not want to go to school, sir…"

I could tell Harry wasn't listening, he made a grab for the letters, but Dobby jumped out of reach.

"Harry Potter will have them, sir, if he gives Dobby his word that he will not return to Hogwarts. Ah, sir, this is a danger you must not face! Say you won't go back, sir."

"No. Give me my friends' letters!"

"Then Harry Potter leaves Dobby no choice," Dobby said sadly.

Before either of us could move, Dobby dashed to the door, yanked it open, and sprinted downstairs.

Horror-struck, Harry and I chased after him. We froze as we entered the kitchen, Dobby had stopped a few feet in front of us. Mum and a man, I recognised as Professor Dumbledore from the Chocolate Frog card.

"Harry, Lizzie, what's the meaning of this? I thought I had told you to stay upstairs?" Mum asked. Simultaneously, Harry and I pointed to the creature.

"Who are you?"

"Dobby, miss."

"Well, Dobby, I think you should go home," Professor Dumbledore said kindly.

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore, sir," Dobby said meekly, and with a loud _crack_, Dobby vanished.

"Lily, I do not think there should be any punishment, but I must ask, Harry, what did Dobby want?"

"He came to tell me not go back to Hogwarts, Professor, he said terrible things were going to happen at Hogwarts this year," Harry answered.

"Did he now?" Professor Dumbledore asked surprised.

"He said it didn't have to do with Voldemort, sir," I added, "but he couldn't specifically say who it would be."

"Curious. Well, Lily, I must be leaving, I have tread on your hospitality a bit too long, perhaps," Professor Dumbledore said.

"Good-night, Professor," Mum said.

"Good-night, Lily. Good-night, Harry, and you too, Elizabeth. I must say I'm looking forward to having you attend Hogwarts."

"Thanks, Professor," I mumbled, "and good-night."

"'Night, Professor," Harry said.

* * *

**Author's Note: Okay, I lied in my author's note in the last chapter, chapter after next, Lizzie and Rhiannon'll be going to Hogwarts. Next chapter, we'll meet Lockhart. Sigh And he will not be teaching, virtual ice cream cake for anyone who can guess who will be teaching. I was wondering, should I put it all together, Lizzie's POV (all the books minus POA), or separately, like Lizzie Potter and the COS? Could you please help me? Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays! And a Happy New Year! **


	4. Chapter 4: Diagon Alley

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor will I ever own Harry Potter.

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**Chapter Four**

**Diagon Alley**

_Lizzie's POV_

_11 days later_

About one week ago, Harry went to stay with his friend, Ron Weasley, at the Weasleys' home, The Burrow. Mr. Weasley, Ron, and the twins, Fred and George, came to pick Harry up. The Weasleys' car can fly! I know growing up around magic, I shouldn't be amazed by a flying car, because Sirius has a flying motorbike, but well, it's (the car, and I'm pretty sure the bike) is against wizarding law. Anyway, I asked Fred and George how Ginny was, and introduced Rhiannon to them. Apparently, Ginny fancies my brother, and hasn't stopped talking about him all summer. Harry and I wasted no time in telling the Weasleys and Rhiannon, about Dobby. They think Dobby might've been sent by an enemy to prevent Harry from going back to Hogwarts. In other words, Dobby might just be a hoax.

"Mum! There's an owl at the window!" Sarah called. Mum and I rushed into the kitchen, and Mum opened the window. The owl flew to me, and I knew exactly what it was, my Hogwarts letter! Just like Harry's the envelope had our address, only mine read:

_Miss E. Potter_

_The Third Largest Bedroom_

_7 Bowman Lane_

_Godric's Hollow_

I eagerly ripped open the envelope to and read my letter:

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Miss Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. _

_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl no later than 21 August._

_Yours sincerely,_

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Eagerly, I pulled out the supplies list.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

Uniform

_First year students will require:_

_Three sets of plain work robes (black)_

_One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_

_One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_

_One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings) _

_Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry nametags_

Set books

_All students should have a copy of each of the following:_

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) _by Miranda Goshawk_

A History of Magic _by Bathilda Bagshot_

Magical Theory _by Adalbert Waffling_

A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration _by Emeric Switch_

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi _by Phyllida Spore_

Magical Drafts and Potions _by Arsenius Jigger_

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _by Newt Scamander_

Defensive Magic: The Practical and Theoretical Approach for Beginners_ by Alethea Kemp_

Other Equipment:

_1 wand_

_1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)_

_1 set of glass or crystal phials_

_1 telescope_

_1 set of brass scales_

_Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad_

_PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS_

"Mum, isn't that Hedwig?" Emma-Lynn asked, looking out the window. We immediately turned our heads, and sure enough, a snowy owl was flying towards us. Mum let Hedwig in and she landed in front of me. I untied the letter from her leg and read aloud:

"'_Dear Mum, Lizzie, Sarah, and Emma_

_I'm having lots of fun here. There's even an orchard where we can practice Quidditch, without Muggles seeing us. The Weasleys live near the village of Ottery St Catchpole. I've helped Ron, Fred, and George de-gnome the garden, but they say they'll be back. There's also a ghoul here, right above Ron's room. _

_Anyway, we've just received a letter from Hermione, and she'll be in Diagon Alley next Wednesday, and Mrs. Weasley has decided to go then also. Can you make it then? And Sirius? If not, could you mail the key so I can get some money from Gringotts. I've been informed we are travelling by Floo Powder. Send Hedwig back with your answer. _

_Love,_

_Harry'"_

"Liz, could you write to Harry telling him we can go, and I'll personally see to it that Sirius goes also?" Mum asked. I nodded, as I grabbed some parchment, a quill, and ink.

_Dear Harry,_

_Mum says we will see you next Wednesday, and she'll personally see to it that Sirius goes. Rhiannon would be quite mad if we all got together without her. _

_I received my Hogwarts letter today, so your little sister we'll be at school with you this year. Don't worry, I won't embarrass you. Rhiannon and I'll just join the Weasley twins in pulling pranks. You can't say anything, you can have your adventures and Rhiannon and I'll be the comic relief… I hope Dobby was wrong about 'terrible things' happening at Hogwarts. I wonder what horrible things _could _happen. Anyway, see you Wednesday, but you won't see Sarah or Emmy._

_Your loving sister,_

_Elizabeth aka Lizzie aka Liz aka your favourite sister _

I quickly tied the letter to Hedwig and she flew off back to Harry. I began jumping around in glee. This was it, I was finally to Hogwarts the day after my birthday.

"Will you stop?" Sarah asked annoyed.

"No, I'm excited for next Wednesday," I said happily.

"Well, lucky you, because while you and Rhiannon are off having fun, I'm stuck here with Emmy and Remus," Sarah replied grumpily.

"You're jealous, aren't you, Sarah? Come on, just admit, you can't wait to go to Hogwarts either," I said mischievously.

"No, you're the only I person I know that can possibly be excited about going to school," she replied.

"It's just not _any _school, there're ghosts, and a poltergeist, the portraits there can talk, and aren't you excited about learning how to use your magic?" I asked, most likely dancing now.

"I think I'll almost be glad when you're gone, because then I'll be the oldest sibling in the house, and I won't have to hear you talk about the school, anymore," Sarah said grinning.

"Ah, but you'll miss mine and Rhiannon's pranks, will you not?"

"Emmy and I'll come up with our own," Sarah replied, though she looked unsure.

"Without mine and Rhiannon's adventurous spirit? I don't think so," I snorted.

"Okay, you win, I give up," Sarah laughed as she put her hands up in surrender.

_Lizzie's POV_

_The day they go to Diagon Alley _

I woke up very early today, actually, before the sun even rose. After an hour of complete and utter boredom, I decided to wake Rhiannon up.

"Rhee, wake up," I said poking her.

"I don't wanna de-gnome the garden today, Dad, maybe tomorrow," she mumbled.

"Rhiannon, you're not at home, you're in my bedroom, remember?"

"No. I want pudding with sprinkles and whipped cream, or even ice-cream," she muttered.

"Where did _that _come from? I thought you were a chocoholic," I said grinning.

"I am. It's chocolate pudding with sprinkles and chocolate whipped cream or even chocolate ice-cream," she said. "What time is it?"

"Dawn."

"D'you sleep, _ever_?"

"Yes," I answered.

"Hmm… I'm not so sure. Anyway, what do you want?"

"I'm bored," I said simply.

"You woke me up at the crack of dawn because you're bored?"

"Sounds about right."

"'Night," Rhiannon said lying down again. There was a knock at the door, and Mum poked her head in.

"Oh, good, you're awake. Rhiannon, could you go wake your dad up?"

She nodded, and Mum left the room.

"Shall we?" I said, gesturing the door.

"We shall," she answered giggling.

With that, we went to the door, and across the hall to where Sirius was borrowing Harry's room. Without knocking, we entered the room.

"Dad," Rhiannon called, "Auntie Lily says it's time to wake up." Nothing. Grinning 'evilly', we walked over to his head, and on the count of three, we shouted into his ear.

"DAD!" Rhiannon shouted.

"SIRIUS!" I yelled.

"WHAT?!"

"Lily says it's time to wake up," Rhiannon answered before we ran out of the room and followed the smell of bacon and eggs.

"Is he awake?" Mum asked as she gave us each a plate with bacon, eggs, and toast. We nodded. "Orange juice, apple juice, or pumpkin juice, Rhiannon?" Mum asked her.

"Uh… orange juice, please," she answered.

"Lizzie?"

"Same, thanks." Mum placed a cup in front us and the orange juiced poured itself.

"Do I smell bacon?" Sirius asked as he walked into the kitchen.

"You might," Mum answered.

"Dad, is that all you think about?"

"Sometimes," he answered. "Why so early, Lily?"

"I was talking to Mrs. Weasley last night, and she said that she'd be going early, and would Floo me when they were leaving so we could arrive at the same time."

"You two are done already?" Sirius asked us, looking at our clean plates. We nodded.

"Sometimes, I swear they take after their fathers in more ways than they'll know," Mum laughed. "Well, if you're done, go get ready."

We nodded, and ran out of the kitchen. "_Without _waking Sarah and Emma!" Mum called behind us.

"Sorry," we said, before we walked into someone.

"Oomph!" I cried, it turned out it was Remus I had walked into.

"Oh, hello, Remus," Rhiannon said.

"Where're you two going in such a hurry?"

"We're going to get dressed so we can go to Diagon Alley," I answered. "You're here to watch Sarah and Emmy, aren't you?"

"Yes, well, if you're mother wants you to get ready, I shall not keep you standing here," he said.

"See you later," we said as we headed into the sitting room. I glanced at the fireplace as we walked by, and I saw Mrs. Weasley's head in it.

"Hullo, Mrs. Weasley," I said as I stopped Rhiannon.

"Hullo, Lizzie," she greeted. "Could you be a dear and tell your mother I'm about to leave? Oh, hello, Rhiannon, I didn't see you there." I ran back to the kitchen.

"Mum, the Floo is for you," I said before running back to the sitting room, followed by Mum.

"Hello, Molly," Mum greeted when she saw who it was.

"I'm just about to leave, Lily, are you just about ready?"

"As soon as these two are ready," Mum answered. I took that as our cue to leave. We rushed upstairs to my room. After getting dressed, I quickly ran a brush through my hair, and pulled it back into a ponytail. We quickly grabbed our jackets, went to the front door to grab our shoes, and back to the fireplace, ready.

"See you in a few minutes, then," Mrs. Weasley said, and pulled her head out of the fireplace. Sirius joined us.

"Are we ready then? I'll go first, shall I?" Mum handed him the Floo powder. He stepped up to the fireplace, threw the powder in, and the flames turned green, and he stepped in. "Diagon Alley!" and he vanished.

"Lizzie, you next," Mum said. I mimicked Sirius.

"Diagon Alley!" I shouted, and with that, Mum and Rhiannon vanished from sight. Next thing, I heard was, "Lizzie!" I opened my eyes, it was Fred and George, and they helped me to my feet.

"Hi," I greeted. "Where are we exactly?"

"Never been to Diagon Alley before?" Fred asked. I shook my head. "We're in the Leaky Cauldron, the entrance to Diagon Alley."

"Where's Harry?" I asked.

"Dunno, he was supposed to come after me," George answered.

"Oomph!" I looked behind me, Rhiannon had arrived. I offered her my hand.

"Need help?" I asked innocently.

"That'd be nice," she said, taking my hand. I pulled her to her feet just as Mr. Weasley arrived.

"Dad, where's Harry?"

"He must've swallowed a mouthful of ash when he opened his mouth to speak, because he coughed as he said 'Diagon Alley'."

"Hey, Liz, where's my dad?" Rhiannon asked me.

"Right here," Sirius answered. "Where's Lily, Rhiannon?"

"I'm here," Mum said as she got to her feet. "Is everyone here?"

"We've just got to wait for Molly and Ginny, and then find Harry," Mr. Weasley replied, as Ginny arrived.

"Mum's coming," she told her father. Within a couple of seconds, Mrs. Weasley arrived.

"Ah, everyone's here," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Well, everyone except Harry," Mr. Weasley said a bit nervously.

"He might've only gone one grate too far, Mum," Ron said reasonably. "I mean he did choke a bit on the ash."

"So, let's go look in Diagon Alley for him," I suggested. "He might be looking for us."

"Good idea, Liz," Mum said, and with that she led us outside. There's was nothing here, but a solid brick wall and a dustbin. She tapped a brick three times, in the middle of the brick a hole appeared. It grew wider and wider, a second later, we were looking at an archway on to a cobbled street.

"Welcome, to Diagon Alley, Lizzie and Rhiannon," Mum said grinning, turning to our amazed faces. We stepped onto the street, I stole a look behind me to see the archway had turned back to a solid wall.

"Everyone keep an eye out for Harry," Mrs. Weasley said.

"I think your mum is more worried about Harry than my mum," I muttered to Ginny. She nodded. We looked around, but no sign of Harry.

"Isn't that Hagrid?" Ron asked, pointing ahead. I looked to where he was pointing, he was pointing at a giant man who was talking to a black-haired boy.

"Isn't that _Harry_? I called.

"It is," Sirius said.

"But who's the girl?" Rhiannon asked.

"Our friend, Hermione," Ron answered. Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, Percy, Ron, Sirius, Rhiannon, and I jogged over to Harry, Hermione, and Hagrid.

"Harry," Mr. Weasley panted. "We _hoped _you'd only gone one grate too far… Molly's frantic­– she's coming, so is your mother."

"Where did you come out?" Sirius asked.

"Knockturn Alley," Hagrid stated grimly.

"_Brilliant_!" Fred and George said together.

"We've never been allowed in," Ron said enviously.

"I should ruddy well think not," Hagrid growled.

"Sorry, but what _is _Knockturn Alley?" I asked.

"It's where all the Dark Arts shops have been set up," Sirius explained.

Mrs. Weasley, Mum, and Ginny came into view.

"Oh, Harry –oh, my dear– you could have been anywhere–" Gasping, Mrs. Weasley pulled out a large clothes brush from her handbag and began sweeping the soot of off Harry.

"Where did you find him, Hagrid?" Mum asked.

"In Knockturn Alley," Hagrid replied.

"Knockturn Alley!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. "Goodness, Hagrid, if you hadn't found him…"

"Well, gotta be off," Hagrid said. "See yer at Hogwarts!" He strode off down the packed street, head and shoulders taller than anyone else.

"Guess who I saw in Borgin and Burkes?" Harry asked Ron and Hermione as we climbed the steps into Gringotts. "Malfoy and his father."

"Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?" Mr. Weasley asked sharply.

"No, he was selling."

"So he's worried," Mr. Weasley said with grim satisfaction. "Oh, I'd love to get Lucius Malfoy for something…"

"You be careful, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley warned. "That family's trouble, don't go biting off more than you can chew."

I stopped to read what written on the door.

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn,_

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

"So you don't think I'm a match for Lucius Malfoy?" Mr. Weasley asked indignantly, but he was distracted by Hermione's parents, who were standing nervously at the counter that ran along the great marble hall, waiting for Hermione to introduce them.

"But you're _Muggles_!" Mr. Weasley said delightedly. "We must have a drink! What's that you got there? Oh, you're changing Muggle money? Molly, look!" He pointed excitedly at the ten-pound note in Mr. Granger's hand.

"Meet you back here," Ron said to Harry and Hermione as the Weasleys were led off by a goblin and we were led by another goblin to our vault and Sirius's vault. The goblin led us to a door, and held it open for us. We were now in a narrow, stone passageway. The goblin whistled and a cart came hurtling up the tracks, and we climbed in. The moment we were in, the cart took off. I looked around, there were stalactites on the ceiling, and stalagmites on the floor, my eyes stung from the cold air, but I kept them open.

"Vault seven hundred and eleven," Sirius, Rhiannon, and the goblin got out of the cart. When Sirius had grabbed enough money, they climbed back into the cart.

"Vault six hundred and eighty-seven," the goblin, Mum, Harry, and I got out of the cart. I looked at the mound of Galleons, columns of Sickles, and heaps of Knuts.

"All ours?" I asked Mum.

"All ours," Mum replied

"Wow…" I breathed. Mum quickly grabbed some money, and we were back in the cart. One wild cart ride later, we are back in the now blinding sunlight, with the Weasleys, and the Grangers, but we separated. Percy muttered about needing a new quill, Fred and George had spotted their friend, Mr. Weasley insisted on taking the Grangers off to the Leaky Cauldron, Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were going to a second-hand robe shop, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were going to wander, and Mum, Sirius, Rhiannon, and I were going to Madam Malkin's.

"We'll all meet at Flourish and Blotts in an hour to buy your school books," Mrs. Weasley said. "Is that all right?" she added to Mum and Sirius. They nodded. "And not one step down Knockturn Alley!" she shouted at the twins' retreating backs.

Mum led us to _Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions_. Madam Malkin greeted us at the door.

"Both Hogwarts?" she asked spotting me and Rhiannon. We nodded. "Follow me then." She led us to the back of the store, stood us each on a stool, and threw a long, black robe on each of us, and began to pin my robe to the right length. I could see Mum and Sirius looking for cloaks, hats, and dragon hide gloves.

"Rhiannon, d'you think we'll be in Gryffindor?" I asked.

"I know _you'll _be in Gryffindor, I mean your whole family's been, but me, I'm not so sure, just Mum and Dad were the only Gryffindors in their families," Rhiannon answered.

"You'll be a Gryffindor, Rhee, you've been raised by a bunch of Gryffindors," I said. "My mum, your dad, Remus, my dad for a bit, and… your mum until…" I said, letting my sentence trail off. Talking to Rhiannon about her mum has always been a touchy subject.

"That's you done, my dear," Madam Malkin said, I stepped off the stool. Mum paid for my robes as we waited for Rhiannon, when Sirius had paid for her robes, we headed up the street to _Ollivanders: Fine Makers of Wands since 382 BC. _Mum opened the door and ushered us in. The shop itself was small, and it was very, _very _quiet.

"Good morning," a voice called. We all jumped. An old man was standing before us.

"Hello," I said.

"Ah, yes, I thought I'd be seeing you soon, Elizabeth Potter. You look just like your mother," he said before his eyes fell on Rhiannon. "And Rhiannon Black, you look just like your father except you have your mother's eyes."

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that killed your father, and the wand that killed your mother. Well, if I had known what those wands were going out into the world to do…" Mr. Ollivander said, but then he spotted Mum and Sirius.

"Lily Potter and Sirius Black! You were only here last year," Mr. Ollivander said as Rhiannon and I sighed in relief. He talked to them for a couple of minutes, before coming back to us. "Right, well, who would like to go first?"

"I'll go," I volunteered.

"Well, now– Miss Potter, let me see." He pulled a long tape measure out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"My right," I said.

"Hold out your arm. That's it," he said. He measured from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and round my head. "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Miss Potter and Miss Black. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand." I realised the tape measure was measuring by itself now.

"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled to the floor. "Right then, Miss Potter, try this, holly and phoenix feather, ten inches, nice and supple. Give it a wave, go on." I did as he said, but he immediately snatched the wand out of my hand. "No, no, here, try this one, willow and unicorn hair, ten inches, quite swishy." I tried, but almost at once, he had snatched that wand out of my hand. "Yew and unicorn hair, nine inches." Again, with the snatching. "No, try this, maple and phoenix feather, seven and a half inches, quite whippy." He immediately took the wand from my hand, _again_. "Try this one, mahogany and dragon heartstring, eight inches, pliable." He grabbed the wand from my hand. "I wonder, try this, redwood and phoenix feather, ten and a half inches." I felt a sudden warmth in my fingers, I waved the wand, and red and gold sparks streamed from my wand like fireworks. Mum, Sirius, and Rhiannon clapped.

"Well, Miss Black, I believe it is your turn," Mr. Ollivander said.

She nodded bravely, and stepped forward.

"Which is your wand arm," he asked.

"Right." He did the same measuring he had done with me, and pulled a wand off one of the many shelves. "Try this, ash and phoenix feather, seven inches." He snatched the wand out of her hand. "No, no, try this one here, oak and unicorn hair, eleven inches, springy." He took the wand out of her hand. "Try this, cedar and dragon heartstring, nine inches." Sparks shot from her wand.

We all clapped. Mum paid eight Galleons for my wand, and Sirius paid seven Galleons for Rhiannon's wand. Mr. Ollivander bowed us from his shop

"I take it you would like an owl?" Mum asked me.

I nodded, "Yes, please."

"And you, Rhiannon?" Sirius asked.

"I believe you know the answer to that question, Dad," Rhiannon said grinning.

"An owl it is," he said. We entered _Eeylops Owl Emporium__–__ Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy_. It was dark inside. Rhiannon and I looked around. I chose a pretty barn owl, while Rhiannon chose a cute, but stocky tawny owl. When had left the shop, Sirius came up to us.

"You two are coming with me," he said. "Lily's going to finish your shopping."

"What colour ink do you two want?" Mum asked.

"Red," I answered.

"Violet," Rhiannon replied.

"Where're we going Sirius?" I asked as he led us through Diagon Alley. We came to a shop called _Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop_.

"No way," Rhiannon and I said at the same time. Laughing, Sirius led us inside the store. Rhiannon and I looked around amazed. There were Dungbombs, trick sweets, Nose-Biting Teacups, anything you could think of, and my personal favourite, Dr. Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks. Fred, George, and their friend, Lee Jordan were also their stocking up on the fireworks.

"Fancy meeting you here," Fred said when he had spotted us.

"How come you didn't tell us you were pranksters?" George asked.

"You never asked," I answered, grabbing a box of Filibuster's Fireworks.

"Mainly 'cause Lily doesn't _really _approve, but we can still make her laugh," Rhiannon said, getting a box herself.

"Who're victims usually?" George asked.

"My younger sisters, Mum, anyone who makes us angry, and the odd time, Harry, we got him good on my birthday," I said. "It's really hard to get Sirius or Remus because during their days at Hogwarts that's pretty much all they did, well, Sirius more than Remus."

"What did you do to Harry on your birthday?" Fred asked.

"Let Dungbombs off in his room, swapped his teacup with a nose-biting one, swapped the soap with Frog-Spawn Soap, and gave him some Hiccough Sweets," I answered, ticking them off on my fingers. "Hang on, I've forgotten something."

"The water balloons," Rhiannon said, examining the sweets.

"Hee-hee, oh, yeah," I said with a chuckle.

"Why did you prank him?" Lee Jordan asked.

"Last day with us before he went to Hogwarts," I said with a shrug. I joined Rhiannon over at the sweets. After grabbing a few more boxes of fireworks, Sirius informed us we should head up to Flourish and Blotts. We paid for our things, left the shop, and met Mum outside. As we headed to Flourish and Blotts, I noticed there was a large crowd trying to get in.

"Wonder what's going on," I said, nodding towards the shop.

"That's odd, I've never seen it so packed," Sirius said, looking at the shop curiously. When we reached the shop, I noticed a large banner stretched across the upper windows:

GILDEROY LOCKHART

will be signing copies of his autobiography

_MAGICAL ME_

today 12.30-4.30 pm

"Mum's read his books," I said as we pushed our way through the crowd, "says they're a load of rubbish. Says he's a bit full of himself, too."

"Our mum _fancies _him," George said. The crowd seemed to be mostly witches Mrs. Weasley's age We sneaked up the line until we found Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, Percy, and Mr. and Mrs. Granger.

"Ah, good, just waiting for Ron, Harry, and Hermione," Mr. Weasley said. A long queue wound right to the back where Lockhart was signing his books.

"Oh, there you are, good," Mrs. Weasley said. She sounded breathless and kept patting her hair. "We'll be able to see him in a minute…"

Lockhart slowly came into view, seated at a table surrounded by pictures of his own face, all winking and flashing smiles at the crowd. A short, irritable looking man was dancing around taking pictures with a large, black camera that gave off puffs of purple smoke with each blinding flash.

"Out of the way, there," he snarled at Ron, moving back to get a better shot. "This is for the _Daily Prophet_."

"Big deal," Ron said, rubbing his foot where the photographer had stepped on it.

Lockhart had heard him. He looked up. He saw Ron– and then he saw Harry. He stared. Then he leapt to his feet and practically shouted, "It _can't _be Harry Potter?"

The crowd parted and whispered excitedly. Lockhart dived forward, seized Harry's arm, and pulled him to the front. The crowd burst into applause. Harry's face reddened as Lockhart shook his hand for the photographer, who was clicking away madly, wafting smoke over us.

When Lockhart had finally let go of Harry, he tried to get back over here, but Lockhart threw an arm around Harry's shoulder, and clamped him to his side.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Lockhart said loudly, waving to quiet the crowd, "What an extraordinary moment this is! When young Harry stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he wanted to buy my autobiography, which I shall give him now, free of charge!" the crowd clapped as Harry was presented with Lockhart's entire works.

He staggered over to where Ginny, Rhiannon, and I were standing.

"You have these," he mumbled to Ginny, tipping the books into her cauldron. "Or your mum, my sisters and my mum won't want them.

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" said a voice. From what Harry had told me about him, I could safely assume this was Draco Malfoy. Harry straightened up, and turned to face Malfoy.

"_Famous _Harry Potter," he said. "Can't even go into a _bookshop _without making the front page."

"Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!" Ginny said. She glared at Malfoy.

"Potter, you've got yourself a _girlfriend_!" Malfoy drawled. Ginny went scarlet as Ron and Hermione fought their way over.

"Oh, it's you," Ron said, looking at Malfoy as if he was something disgusting. "Bet you're surprised to see Harry here, eh?"

"Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley," Malfoy retorted. "I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for your new books."

Ron went as red as Ginny. He dropped his books into her cauldron too, and started towards Malfoy, but Harry and Hermione grabbed his jacket.

"Oh, leave them alone, why don't you? I've heard about your family, at least they're decent. Just because you're rich doesn't make you a better person, it just makes _you _a rich, arrogant prick who enjoys degrading others!" I said.

"Why you little–" Malfoy started but Rhiannon interrupted him.

"You'll leave her alone, if you know what's good for you, but I seriously doubt that," she snarled.

"Ron!" Mr. Weasley said as he, Fred, and George fought their way over. "What are you doing? It's mad in here, let's go outside."

"Well, well, well– Arthur Weasley."

It was a man, I could only assume was Malfoy's father.

"Lucius," Mr. Weasley said, nodding coldly.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," Mr. Malfoy said. "All those raids, I hope they're paying you overtime?"

He reached into Ginny's cauldron, and pulled out from amidst the shiny Lockhart books, a very old, very battered copy of _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_.

"Obviously not," he said. "Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't pay you well for it?"

Mr. Weasley flushed darker than Ron or Ginny.

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy," he said.

"Clearly," he said, his eyes strayed over the Grangers and Mum. "The company you keep, Weasley… and I thought your family could sink no lower–"

There was a thud of metal as Ginny's cauldron went flying; Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Mr. Malfoy, knocking him backwards into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spell books dropped on our heads. There was a yell of, "Get him, Dad!" from Fred or George; Mrs. Weasley was shrieking, "No, Arthur, no!"; the crowd moved backwards, knocking more shelves over; "Gentlemen, please– please!" cried the assistant, and then louder than all, "Break it up, there, gents, break it up–"

Hagrid was wading his way towards us in the sea of books. In an instant, he had pulled Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Weasley apart. Mr. Weasley had a cut lip, and Mr. Malfoy had been hit in the eye by an _Encyclopaedia of Toadstools_. He was still holding Ginny's old transfiguration book. He thrust it at her.

"Here, girl –take your book– it's the best your father can give you–"

He pulled himself out of Hagrid's grip, he beckoned to his son, and left the shop.

"Yeh should've ignored him, Arthur," Hagrid said, almost lifting Mr. Weasley as he straightened his robes. "Rotten ter the core, the whole family, everyone knows that. No Malfoy's worth listenin' ter. Bad blood, that's what it is. Come on now– let's get outta here."

The assistant looked as though he wanted to stop us from leaving, but he hardly came up to Hagrid's waist, and he seemed to have thought better of it. We hurried up the street. The Grangers were shaking in fright, and Mrs. Weasley was beside herself with fury.

"A _fine _example to set your children… _brawling _in public… _what _Gilderoy Lockhart must've thought…"

"He was pleased," Fred said. "Didn't you hear him as we were leaving? He was asking that bloke from the _Daily Prophet _if he'd be able to work it into his report– said it was all publicity."

We were pretty silent after that. Harry would be going back with the Weasleys to The Burrow, and we'd, of course be going home, where we (Rhiannon and I) would waste no time in telling Sarah, Emmy, and Remus what had happened today. We bade good-bye to the Grangers, who were leaving the pub for the Muggle side. Mr. Weasley had begun to ask how bus stops work, but stopped quickly at the look on Mrs. Weasleys face.

I guess I'd be lying if I said my first trip to Diagon Alley wasn't eventful.

* * *

**Author's Note: Next chapter, they're off to Hogwarts. I hope everyone had a good holiday. I received a laptop for Christmas!!! My brother's reaction was priceless, it's a pity my step-dad didn't record it... Oh, well. It was my fifteenth birthday last Friday, only thing that sucks is most of my friends'll be turning sixteen... Please review! Constructive critism is welcome, even if I hate it from my teachers...**


	5. Chapter 5: The Journey from London

**Disclaimer: If I was J.K. Rowling, would I _really _be on here, writing a 'what if?' story?

* * *

**

**Chapter Five**

**The Journey from London**

_Lizzie's POV_

_September 1st, 1992_

"Elizabeth! Rhiannon! Time for breakfast!" Mum yelled up the stairs. I poked Rhiannon. She stirred and mumbled something incoherently.

"Hey, time to wake up sleepy head, we've got to King's Cross, remember?" I said. "There's breakfast." No answer. I gave her a good jab in the ribs.

"Okay, okay, I'm up! I'm up!" she said. She sat up to emphasise her point. "See? I'm up!"

"Okay, I see, now get dressed, before Mum yells at us again."

We dressed in silence, and rushed out of my room.

"Sirius Black, you had better be awake, or I'll hex you into next year!" Mum shouted just as we left my room.

"How're we getting there?" Rhiannon asked.

"Taking the car," I said.

"Who's driving? Your mum or my dad?"

"Mum, I don't think she trusts your dad behind the wheel," I said with a chuckle as we entered the kitchen. Sarah and Emmy were finishing their breakfast.

"Come on, girls, hurry up. Lizzie and Rhiannon, don't worry about your trunks, Sirius and I'll bring them down, and put them in the car," Mum said. She went to the kitchen door and opened it, before bellowing, "Sirius! If you don't get down here this instant, there will be _no breakfast _for _you_!"

We laughed, and quickly ate our breakfast, and headed back upstairs. Rhiannon and I grabbed our jackets, shoved our pyjamas in our trunks, did one last sweep of the room, and went back downstairs to find both Sirius and Remus in the kitchen.

"You're coming to see us off too, Remus?" I asked.

"Yes," he answered. "Lily, don't you think you should put their trunks in the car or are they already in the car?"

Mum glanced at the clock. "Yeah, probably should. Come on, Sirius."

"I'm eating," he said.

"_She's _your daughter, you should have to get her trunk," Mum said, glancing at Rhiannon.

"I'll help you, Lily," Remus offered.

"Thank you, Remus," Mum said, and together they left the kitchen.

"It's okay, Dad, I'll just make you get it the other six years," Rhiannon said.

"It won't matter in our seventh year, we'll be able to magic our trunks down the stairs ourselves," I pointed out.

"True," she said.

"Lizzie, Sarah, Emma, and Rhiannon, please put your jackets and shoes on, and could one of you kindly open the front door?" Mum shouted.

"I'll do it!" Emma shouted, and ran from the kitchen before anyone could say anything.

"You heard Lily, go and get your shoes," Sirius said. We stood up, left the kitchen, and went to the front door to retrieve our shoes. I had just finished tying my shoes when Emma came over.

"Lizzie, can you tie my shoes for me?" she asked.

"Emmy, you're eight years old, you need to learn to tie your shoes by yourself," I told her, "but I'll tie your shoes for you."

"Thanks, Lizzie," she said.

The door opened, and Mum poked her head in. "You lot ready?" We nodded. "Good, go get in the car. Sirius, come on, time to go!"

We followed her out, and into the car, where the four of us fit comfortably. Remus was in the driver's seat waiting. Mum joined him, shortly followed by Sirius who occupied the passenger's seat.

"Are we all set, then?" Remus asked.

"Yes," Mum answered.

"All right, then," he said. With that, we were off, leaving Godric's Hollow behind.

We chatted merrily amongst ourselves, Rhiannon and I about Hogwarts, Sarah, Emmy, and Mum about the peace and quiet they will have with us gone.

We arrived at King's Cross with thirty minutes to spare. Remus parked the car, and we all piled out. Sirius and Remus ran across the street and grabbed trolleys for our trunks. We walked into the station until we reached the barriers between platforms nine and ten. There was girl with dirty blonde curls crying. She looked about my age, not to mention she had an _owl_.

"Mum, look," I said, pointing to the girl. Mum looked at the girl, walked over to her, and beckoned Rhiannon and me to follow.

"Hello," Mum said, bending down to look in the girl's grey eyes. "What's your name?"

"Henrietta Hawthorne," the girl said.

"Well, Henrietta, what seems to be the problem?" Mum asked kindly.

"I'm trying to find platform nine and three quarters, but I can't find it," Henrietta sobbed.

"Well, Henrietta, dry your eyes, because I know where platform nine and three quarters is," Mum told her.

"You do?" she asked hopefully, drying her eyes.

"I bet you're going to go to a school called Hogwarts?" Mum asked. Henrietta eyes widened.

"How do you know about Hogwarts?"

"I went there myself, and it's Lizzie and Rhiannon's first year as well," Mum replied. "Where are your parents?"

"They left me here," she answered.

"They left you here?" Mum asked incredulously.

"They think I'm a freak," Henrietta said. "Professor Dumbledore told me how to find the platform, but I've forgotten."

"They sound like Aunt Petunia," I commented.

"Not now, Lizzie. Henrietta, are your parents Muggles?"

She nodded, "I was brought up Catholic."

"My parents were Muggles as well," Mum said. "So you've met Professor Dumbledore already?"

Henrietta nodded, "I think it was a Professor McGonagall came first, but my parents wouldn't listen, so Professor Dumbledore came instead."

"Ah, so, shall we show you how to get to platform nine and three quarters?" Mum asked.

"Yes, please, Mrs.–?"

"Potter, but you can call me Lily, Mrs. Potter makes me feel old," Mum said. "Come on."

We walked back to where Sirius, Remus, Sarah, and Emma were waiting.

"How about Remus and Emmy go first?" Mum suggested. Remus nodded.

"Come on, Emmy," he said, holding out his hand. Emma took it, they walked purposely towards the barrier, and they were gone.

"Sirius and Sarah," Mum said. They walked up to the barrier, leaned against it, and fell through.

"Lizzie and Rhiannon, you next," Mum ordered.

"Shall we take a run at it?" I asked Rhiannon.

"We shall," she said. We strode purposely, bent low over the handles of the trolleys, and began gathering speed. A few feet from the barrier, we broke into a run, the wall was coming closer, and next thing I knew, we were looking at the scarlet Hogwarts Express. Mum and Henrietta appeared behind us.

"Why don't you three go find a compartment, and we'll keep an eye out for the Weasleys," Mum said. We nodded. We walked along the train, most compartments were already filled with students. We finally found an empty compartment near the end of the train. We managed to get our trunks on the train, and in the luggage rack. When that was all done, we hopped off the train, and found Mum again.

"Well, have a lovely term, all three of you," Mum said, giving us a hug, including Henrietta. Rhiannon and I gave Sirius and Remus a hug. "Here's some money for lunch."

"Thanks, Mum," I said.

"Yeah, thanks, Lily," Rhiannon said.

"Thank you for showing me how to get on the platform, Lily," Henrietta said quietly.

"Your welcome, honey," Mum said, giving her another hug. A whistle sounded.

"You had better get on the train," Remus said. I looked quickly at the barrier, and saw a group of red-heads.

"Ginny! Ginny, over here!" I yelled, waving my arms.

"Quickly, the train's about to leave!" Rhiannon shouted. They ran down here, we quickly heaved Ginny's trunk on, followed by Fred and George's, and they quickly clambered on. We leant out the window so our respective parents could kiss good-bye.

"Bye, Dad!" Rhiannon said. "Bye, Lily, Remus, Sarah, and Emmy!"

"Bye, Mum! Bye, Remus, Sirius, Sarah, and Emmy!"

"See you soon, Liz," Mum said. "Stay out of trouble, you too, Rhiannon."

"Take care, Rhiannon," Sirius said.

"Don't worry, Dad, I'll be fine," Rhiannon said.

"I know you will," Sirius said. "I'd say 'stay out of trouble,' but that'd be uncharacteristic of me."

"That's why I think Lily said it, Sirius," Remus said. "Well, good luck. Have a good year, I'll most likely see you during the summer holidays."

"See you later, Lizzie! See you, Rhiannon!" Sarah called.

"Bye, Elizabeth! Bye, Rhiannon!" Emma shouted. The train began to move. Sarah and Emma ran with it as it gathered speed. When it had gathered too much, they fell back, and waved. We rounded a corner, and our parents were out of sight.

"Well, we'd love to stay and chat with you lovely ladies, but our friends await us," Fred said.

"Hoping to see you all in Gryffindor though," George added.

"See you at Hogwarts," I said as they left.

"I'm sorry, but I still don't know who you all are," Henrietta said.

"True, we didn't introduce ourselves properly," I said. "I'm Elizabeth Potter, better known as Lizzie, unless I'm in trouble."

"Rhiannon Black."

"Ginny Weasley," Ginny said, "but I don't know who you are."

"Henrietta Hawthorne."

"So, Henrietta, what's the deal with your parents?" I asked. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"I want to," she said quietly. "I need to tell someone, even if we're not together when we get there.

"On August twelfth, a woman came to my home in London. She knocked on our door, and asked if she could speak to my parents and me. My parents let her in, my mother led her to the sitting room, and the woman introduced herself. She introduced herself as Professor McGonagall, and I had a place at the school where she teaches. She said my parents had to accept the fact I was 'special', that I had, for lack of a better word, superhuman powers. When my mother asked what she meant, Professor McGonagall responded, 'Your daughter's a witch, Mrs. Hawthorne.' My parents threw her out.

"The next day, Professor Dumbledore showed up. He explained he was the headmaster where Professor McGonagall teaches. 'What school is this, then?' my father asked. 'A school of magic. Your daughter is very talented in that area,' he answered. 'Just Henrietta?' my mother asked. 'Just Henrietta.' 'Nothing we can say can change that?' 'Nothing, unless you would like her to lose control of her magic?' 'What school is this, then?' my father demanded. 'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.' 'Never heard of it.' Professor Dumbledore seemed to be losing his patience. He transfigured the sofa into a pig and back. My mother told Professor Dumbledore to get out. She literally threw me out. 'But, Mum–' 'I'm not your mother anymore, freak. You go against everything we taught you, but you can stay until school starts, then I don't want to see you ever again.' With that, she slammed the door. 'Henrietta, would you like to come to Hogwarts?' I nodded my head. He said we'd have to get my school things. I asked him what happens when people bottle up their magic. He said the magic comes out when you're angry or really upset.

"So we set out for Diagon Alley. My books and robes are second-hand. My scales, cauldron, and telescope are brand new. He bought my wand and owl. He said I should I have a couple of books for background reading. I bought _Quidditch Through the Ages _and a book about Hogwarts. I've just read the Quidditch one, though. Anyway, he brought me back home. I asked Professor Dumbledore if I could show my brother and sister Diagon Alley, if they accepted what I am, and he said I could.

"My mother didn't want me in the house, really, so she'd give money to Johanna money, and the next day, I brought them to Diagon Alley. The only hard part was convincing them the inn _was_ there, because Muggles can't see it. We had fun, I told them I'd stay in touch, but I doubt our parents'll let us. They brought me to King's Cross at quarter after ten, and left me there. Dumbledore also told me about Voldemort." I noticed Ginny flinch.

"Wow," was I all could say.

"And here I was thinking my family's mean," Rhiannon said.

"Rhee, most of your family are pure-blood psychopaths," I pointed out.

"Thank you, Lizzie," Rhiannon said sarcastically.

"It's not my fault you're related to the Lestranges and the Malfoys," I retorted.

"You're related to the Malfoys and the Lestranges?" Ginny asked, her eyes wide.

"Yeah. Bellatrix Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy are my dad's cousins, making them my second cousins, and Draco Malfoy my third cousin," Rhiannon said bitterly. "But they haven't been my dad's family since he was sixteen, so their not mine. Lizzie and them are my family. I far as I'm concern they stopped being family when I was two."

"What happened when you were two?" Henrietta prompted. Rhiannon was silent. "You don't have to…"

"No, I should tell you, you told us what happened, and this way if there's a second war, you'll understand, well, you and Ginny anyway, Lizzie already knows." She took a deep sigh, and began her story. "One week after my birthday, Bellatrix Lestrange came to my house looking for my dad. He wasn't there. Her orders were if my dad wasn't home, to kill my mum and me. She was about to kill me, when my dad walked in. Bellatrix changed her target, and shot the curse at my mum instead. So, my dad watched my mum die, she let him walk over to me, and he picked me up, and before she could say one word we had Disapparated –to disappear and reappear somewhere else in the blink of an eye– to Lily's cottage."

"What was your mum's name?" Henrietta asked quietly.

For a second, I thought Rhiannon wouldn't answer, but she opened her mouth and said ever so quietly, "Melody."

"Have you all lost someone to the war?" Henrietta asked.

I nodded, "My dad. Voldemort killed him personally, right in front of my brother, Harry. I was two."

"Your brother is the famous Harry Potter? And you're the Elizabeth in that story? And I swear I won't make a big deal of it after today, I just find the story intriguing, that's all," Henrietta said.

"It's all right," I said.

"Have you lost anyone to the war, Ginny?" Henrietta asked.

"My uncles, but they were murdered before I was born," she answered. We sat in silence for a few minutes, it was broken by the compartment door opening. It was Hermione.

"I've been looking for you two everywhere," she said, pointing to Ginny and me. "Have either of you seen your brothers?"

"Hermione, I haven't seen Harry since we were in Diagon Alley," I said. She turned to Ginny.

"They were suppose to come through the barrier right after Mum and I," Ginny said.

"Well, all right, if you see them, tell them I'm looking for them," Hermione said, as she closed the compartment door. Henrietta bombarded us with questions. Is such and such real? Did Merlin really exist? Can magic cure any or most Muggle diseases? Did we have different food from Muggles?

That question was answered when the food trolley arrived.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?" asked a smiling, dimpled witch.

I leapt up and bought a bit of everything, and a lot of my favourites, but enough to share between the four of us. The amount of sweets seemed to bemuse Henrietta. Her eyes went wide.

"I've never heard of any of those!" she exclaimed.

"Well, of course you wouldn't have, they're wizard sweets," I said dumping them on an empty seat. "Here, have a Chocolate Frog." I tossed her one.

"Which card did you get?" Rhiannon asked as she opened a Cauldron Cake.

"Um… Merlin," she answered. She picked up a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.

"You want to be careful with those," I warned. "When they say every flavour, they mean _every_ flavour." I picked out a white one with brown spots. "Mm… toasted marshmallow."

Henrietta picked one out. I was red with dark brown spots. "Urgh… earthworm."

It was good fun eating the beans. The most disgusting flavour we found was anchovies.

When it was dark out, we decided to change into our robes.

"What's the name of your owl?" I asked Henrietta.

"Athena, yours?"

"Artemis, and Rhiannon's is Mercury."

We had just finished cramming our jackets into our trunks when a voice echoed throughout the train, "We will be arriving at Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

We crammed our pockets with the leftover with sweets, which wasn't that much, and we joined the jostling crowd. The train slowed down, and came right to a stop. People pushed their way out and onto a tiny, dark platform. A lamp came bobbing over our heads.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" a familiar voice called. It was Hagrid.

"Whoa!" Henrietta exclaimed at the sight of Hagrid, as we walked over.

"C'mon, follow me. Any more firs' years? Firs' years follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling, we followed Hagrid down a steep, narrow path. It was very dark on either side of us.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight of Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' 'round this bend here." We were now looking at a black lake.

There was a loud, "Ooh!"

On top of a mountain was Hogwarts Castle; it was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid said, pointing to a little fleet of boats sitting in the water. The four of us climbed into a boat.

"Everyone in?" Hagrid shouted, he had a boat to himself. "FORWARD!"

The boats moved forwards. We were rather silent as we sailed towards Hogwarts, all of staring at the castle.

"Heads down!" Hagrid yelled as we reached a cliff. We ducked as the boats carried us through a curtain of ivy, which hid an opening in the cliff face. We seemed to be sailing right underneath the school in a dark tunnel. Finally, we seemed to have a reached an underground harbour, where we scrambled onto rocks and pebbles. Hagrid began to climb up a passageway in the rock with us following until we came out onto the damp grass. We followed Hagrid right up a flight of stone steps, and we gathered around the huge, oak door.

"Everyone here?"

Hagrid raised a fist and knocked three times, all of a sudden, I was extremely nervous, and judging by my friends' faces, I wasn't the only one.

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**Author's Note: Okay, they are _finally _at Hogwarts. Next chapter is the Sorting, though you probably know what house they will end up in, and obviously, Lockhart isn't the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Who is? Hmm… I'll leave you to ponder that one. I hope everyone had safe and happy holidays. I got a laptop for Christmas, so now I'll be able to type at school, hopefully. And my birthday was fifteen days ago, and now I'm fifteen, the only thing that stinks is most of my friends are turning sixteen, and I have to wait another year practically… Oh, well. Please review!**


	6. Chapter 6: The Sorting

**Disclaimer: I'm not rich, I'm not blonde, and I'm not British. I'm merely borrowing the characters, and inventing a few along the way.

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**Chapter Six**

**The Sorting**

_Lizzie's POV_

_September 1st, 1992_

The door immediately swung open. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald green robes faced us. She looked very stern.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I shall take them from here."

She looked at us, her gaze resting on Henrietta. "Glad to see you among us, Miss Hawthorne." Henrietta nodded mutely. Professor McGonagall pulled open the door. The Entrance Hall was so big, I was sure you could fit my entire house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a marble staircase led to the upper floors.

We followed Professor McGonagall across the faded stone floor. I could hear the students talking in a door to the right, but Professor McGonagall led us into chamber off the hall. We crowded in, looking around nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be Sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony, because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly," Professor McGonagall finished. "I shall return when we are ready for you."

"How are you Sorted into houses?" Henrietta asked.

I shrugged my shoulders, "Dunno, Mum has assured us, it's quite painless." We fell into a nervous silence. Professor McGonagall would be back any second. I really do hope I'm in Gryffindor. Mum said she didn't care, but I don't think she'd be pleased if I wound up in Slytherin. Professor McGonagall returned.

"Form a line, and follow me," she instructed us. I ended up being in front, with Rhiannon behind me, Ginny behind her, and Henrietta behind her. We walked out of the chamber, across the Hall, and entered the double doors into the Great Hall. The Hall was lit with thousands and thousands of candles floating in mid-air, over four long tables, where the students were sitting. Ghosts floated among the candles. At the top of the Hall, there was a table where the teachers were seated. Professor McGonagall led us up here, with our backs to the teachers, so we were facing the students. Professor McGonagall set a three-legged stool in front of us, and placed an extremely old, patched, and frayed wizard's hat. I wondered what the Hat was for, because everyone was staring at it. A rip near the brim opened like a mouth, and the Hat began to sing:

"_A millennia or more ago,_

_When the school and I were new,_

_Four famous wizards lived,_

_And founded our noble school_

_When alive they did choose_

_But fearing what would happen_

_When they were gone,_

_Delegated the task to me._

_For, I must divide you,_

_Amongst four houses._

_Perhaps you belong in Gryffindor,_

_Nerve and chivalry has always counted,_

_Where the bold and daring reside;_

_Maybe you belong in Ravenclaw,_

_Wit and wisdom, is a must,_

_Where cleverness and intellect is prized;_

_You might fair well in Hufflepuff,_

_Those folks are hard-working and loyal,_

_Where honesty and moral is treasured;_

_Or yet in Slytherin,_

_Where you will find your real friends,_

_Ambitious and cunning folk they are._

_There you have it,_

_What each house values,_

_You have a simple task,_

_Try me on, don't be afraid,_

_And I'll look into your head_

_To find where you truly belong._

_Nothing in your head can escape me,_

_For I'm the Sorting Hat!"_

The entire Hall burst into applause as the Hat finished its song. It bowed each to each of the four house tables, and it was still again.

"That doesn't seem too bad," Rhiannon whispered.

"No, it doesn't," I agreed.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward and unrolled a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the Hat, and sit on the stool to be Sorted," she said. "Adams, Tristan!"

A boy with brown hair stepped forward. He put the Hat on, it fell past his eyes. The Hat was silent, and then–

"_Ravenclaw_!"

The table second from the left burst into applause.

"Ashburner, Kyla!"

"_Hufflepuff_!"

The table on the right cheered.

"Bennett, Morgan!"

"_Hufflepuff_!"

The table on the right cheered again.

"Black, Rhiannon!"

Rhiannon walked forward, I noticed she was very pale. Her worst fear is she would be placed in Slytherin house. The Hat slid over her eyes. I held my breath as the Hat remained silent.

"_Gryffindor_!"

The table farthest to the left exploded into cheers, I clapped along with them. Well done, Rhiannon, you are the first new Gryffindor, and _not _the first new Slytherin.

"Branton, Alexander!"

"_Gryffindor_!"

"Brennan, Sean!"

"_Ravenclaw_!"

"Byrne, Anabella!"

"_Hufflepuff_!"

"Campbell, Duncan!"

"_Hufflepuff_!"

"Chisholm, Jonathon!"

"_Hufflepuff_!"

"Cooper, Guinevere!"

"_Gryffindor_!"

"Creevey, Colin!"

A very small, mousy-haired boy stepped forward.

"_Gryffindor_!"

"Danvers, Seth!"

"_Hufflepuff_!"

I sighed, we had only reached the 'D's. I was starting to feel queasy now, but that was nothing compared to Henrietta. She was pale, and trembling all over. Ginny looked a bit green. "Drummond, Alison" became the first Slytherin.

"Hawthorne, Henrietta!"

Henrietta walked forward trembling, and put the Hat on, it fell past her eyes. The Hat waited a whole minute before it decided.

"_Gryffindor_!"

I clapped with the Gryffindors, and I could see Ginny clapping too.

"Hayes, Louisa!"

"_Ravenclaw_!"

"King, Garth!"

"_Hufflepuff_!"

"Livingstone, Ailsa!"

"_Gryffindor_!"

"Lloyd, Enid!"

"_Slytherin_!"

"Lovegood, Luna!"

"_Ravenclaw_!"

"Lynch, Kate!"

"_Ravenclaw_!"

My legs started to shake as we drew closer to the 'P's.

"O'Connell, Kevin!"

"_Slytherin_!"

"Price, Winifred!"

"_Hufflepuff_!"

"Potter, Elizabeth!"

I could hear whispers as I walked forwards, I put on the Hat and sat down on the stool.

"Hmm…," a voice in my ear said. "Courage and bravery, with a sense of humour. Loyalty to those who are closest to you. Talent, yes, a lot of talent, my dear. Very bright, you are, my girl, very bright. Now, where shall I put you?

"Not Slytherin, most do not have a sense a humour. Not Hufflepuff. You, my dear, are a _Gryffindor_!"

The Hat shouted the last word. The table farthest to the left erupted in cheers. I walked over to the table and sat next to Henrietta.

"Good on you, Lizzie!" George yelled. I grinned back.

"Sweeney, Matilda!"

"_Ravenclaw_!"

"Taylor, Gwenyth!"

"_Ravenclaw_!"

"Telford, Drew!"

"_Ravenclaw_!"

"Wallace, Aileen!"

"_Hufflepuff_!"

"Weasley, Ginerva!"

Ginny stepped forward, looking a bit green. She sat on the stool with the Hat over her eyes. I held my breath.

"_Gryffindor_!"

I cheered madly with her brothers and the rest of the Gryffindors. She collapsed in the seat next to me.

"Well done, Ginny!" Percy said amongst the cheers.

"White, Emilia!"

"_Ravenclaw_!"

Professor McGonagall rolled up the parchment, took the stool, and the Hat away.

Professor Dumbledore stood up. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! I daresay you are hungry, so I will make this short: tuck in!"

"Thank you!"

Everybody clapped and cheered as he sat back down. Food had appeared on the tables. A hook-nosed teacher was saying something to Professor McGonagall, she nodded and whispered something to Professor Dumbledore, and followed the teacher out of the Hall.

We began talking about our families.

"Well, I'm Muggle-born," Colin Creevey said. "Bit of a shock when Professor McGonagall showed up on my doorstep. I've promised my dad to take lots of pictures, though."

"What about you, Rhiannon?" Guinevere asked.

"Pure-blood," she answered slowly, "but my mum was murdered by Bellatrix Lestrange. So now it's just Dad and me, and Lizzie's family, of course."

"How 'bout you, Henrietta?" Ailsa asked.

"Muggle-born, but my parents kicked me out. My brother and sister don't care, they've seen Diagon Alley, but they've promised not to tell my parents," Henrietta said.

"How old are your brother and sister?" Luke Delaney asked.

"Danny's seventeen, and Jo's fourteen," Henrietta replied. "My parents threw Professor McGonagall out first."

"Your parents threw Professor McGonagall out?" Dylan Edwards asked incredulously.

"Yup, then they threw out Professor Dumbledore and me," Henrietta said lightly, I could tell she was enjoying telling her tale.

"They threw out _Professor Dumbledore_?" Alexander Branton exclaimed. Henrietta nodded.

"Wow," Alexander let out a whistle. "I'm right in guessing you're related to Harry Potter?" he asked me.

"Yeah, I'm his sister, and please call me Lizzie," I said, "and speaking of Harry, where is he?"

A sixth year heard my question and leaned over.

"Rumour has it Potter and his friend, Weasley flew here in a flying car, and crashed into the Whomping Willow," he said. The Weasleys, Rhiannon, Hermione, and I froze at that remark.

"They didn't…" I said to Rhiannon shocked.

"They must've because even Professor Dumbledore is missing from the High Table now," Rhiannon said.

"A _flying _car?" Henrietta exclaimed.

"Long story," Fred said.

"Why would they fly the car in the first place?" I asked.

"Dunno, but I do know Mum's not going to be happy," Fred said. When the food had disappeared, and the puddings appeared, we had changed the subject. By the time the puddings had disappeared, Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall had returned, and Professor Dumbledore stood up.

"Ah, now that we have feasted, I have a few start of term notices I would like to give out," he said. "First years should note that the forest in the grounds in strictly forbidden to all pupils. A few older students would do well to remember that.

"As you can see, we have a new teacher among us. Our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is Professor Potter, and she has promised not to play favourites with her children, and Miss Black. Her youngest two daughters, Sarah and Emma-Lynn, will be joining us this year, but not attending class."

Mostly the Gryffindors applauded. The Slytherins hadn't raised their hands at all.

"Hey, you didn't tell us your mum would be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts," Fred whispered.

"We never knew," I said, as the applauding stopped.

"Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you that no magic in the corridors between classes, nor are many objects, the list can be found in Mr. Filch's office if anyone would like to view it. Well, I believe that is all, and it's really time you went to bed," Professor Dumbledore said. Everyone stood up, while the first years looked confused.

"First years! First years over here, please!" a pompous voice commanded. Oh, wait… Percy's a Prefect. Damn. I grudgingly dragged my feet over to where Percy was standing. He led us through the crowds, up the marble staircase, the portraits and paintings on the walls were talking, he led us through doorways hidden behind tapestries and sliding panels. I had felt like it was never going to end when we came to stop in front of a portrait of a very fat woman in a silk dress at the end of the corridor we were in.

"Password?" she asked.

"Wattlebird," Percy said. The portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall. We scrambled through it, and we were in the Gryffindor common room. A cosy, round room full of squashy-looking armchairs. People were still in the common room, I was wondering why, but the answering became apparent when the portrait hole opened and people began clapping and arms dragged Harry and Ron in.

"Brilliant!" Lee Jordan yelled, as Rhiannon and I pushed through the crowd. "Inspired! What an entrance! Flying a car into the Whomping Willow, people'll be talking about that one for years!"

"Mum's going to kill you," I said in a singsong voice when I reached Harry.

"What?"

"Didn't you notice who the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is? It's Lily," Rhiannon informed him. Harry didn't get a chance to reply, because Fred and George had pushed their way to the front.

"Why couldn't you've called us back, eh?" they chorused. Ron was scarlet in the face, and grinning embarrassedly. I glanced back at Percy, he was scowling, over the other excited first years.

"Got to get upstairs– bit tired," Ron said. He and Harry began pushing their way through to the boys' dormitory.

"Night," Harry called to Hermione, who was also scowling. I looked back at Percy, who was beckoning to me and Rhiannon.

"Night," we said to the twins before disappearing into the crowd. Percy directed us to the girls' dormitory, and the boys to theirs.

"Funny, when I thought of my first night of Hogwarts," I said to Rhiannon, "I didn't think my brother would end up flying a car here, and my mum would be one of teachers, _and _my younger sisters are here, too."

"Yeah, my first year vision did not include being taught by Auntie Lily," Rhiannon said. "I still can't see how Sarah and Emma managed to keep that a secret."

"Mum might not have told 'til the day before or something," I said.

"True," we had reached our dormitory. It was a circular room, with six four-poster beds. Guinevere and Ailsa had claimed two beds already, and we claimed the other four, we changed into our pyjamas silently, all of us too sleepy to talk.

"Good night," I said, as I pulled the blankets over me. I heard Ginny, Rhiannon, and Henrietta reply. After lying awake for a couple of minutes, my eyelids became heavy, and I drifted off to sleep.

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**Author's Note: How will Lizzie, Rhiannon, and Harry handle having Lily as their teacher? And to any Lockhart fans, don't worry, he'll be back, whether I want him to be or not. Virtual cake to any who had guessed Lily was the DADA professor. Reviews are nice, you know.**


	7. Chapter 7: Slugs and Fans Plus Malfoy

**Disclaimer: Honestly, if I were the genius who came up with Harry Potter, would I **_**really **_**be on here? Come on, the series is older than me. It took her seventeen years, people.**

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**Chapter Seven**

**Slugs, Fans, a Howler, a Camera Plus Malfoy Equals Trouble**

_Lizzie's POV_

_September 2__nd__, 1992_

We entered the Great Hall and sat not to far from Harry, Ron, and Hermione. I had just started my bacon, when the post arrived. It gave Henrietta quite a shock. A great grey owl bounced of a boy's head, and landed in the jug in front of Hermione.

"_Errol_!" Ron said, pulling the owl out buy its feet. Errol slumped, unconscious, onto the table, legs in the air, a damp, red envelope clamped in his beak.

"You need a new owl," I said to Ginny.

"Is he all right?" Henrietta asked.

"He'll be all right, not sure if Ron will be though," Ginny said.

"Why?" Rhiannon asked.

"He's got himself a Howler," I said.

"Ah," Rhiannon said, covering her ears with her hands.

"What's a Howler?" Henrietta asked.

"You'll see in a minute, just cover your ears, Mum's quite loud without her voice magically magnified," Ginny said, as we both covered our ears, Henrietta mimicking us. Ron opened the envelope, the sound shook dust from the ceiling.

"…_STEALING THE CAR_,_I WOULDN_'_T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY_'_D EXPELLED YOU_,_YOU WAIT TILL I GET A HOLD OF YOU_,_I DON_'_T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT HAD GONE_…"

Mrs. Weasley's yells were shaking the plates and spoons, and they echoed of the walls. People were swivelling around to see who had received the Howler, and Ron sank so low, you could only see the top of his crimson forehead.

"…_LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT_,_I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME_,_WE DIDN_'_T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS_,_YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED_…"

I wondered when Harry was going to be dragged up in this.

"…_ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED_,_YOUR FATHER_'_S FACING AN ENQUIRY AT WORK_,_IT_'_S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE__WE_'_LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME_."

The enveloped dropped from Ron's hand, burst into flames, and curled into ashes. Professor McGonagall came along, and handout the timetables, I took mine.

"Great, our first class is Mum," I said, looking at it. "What did I do to deserve this?" I asked, banging my head on the table.

"Well, concussing yourself isn't going to solve anything, we'll just have to see what she's like as a teacher," Rhiannon said reasonably. "And we should probably get going."

"I hate it when you're right," I said, grabbing my bag. And so, we headed off to our first class at Hogwarts, Defence Against the Dark Arts. We arrived first.

"Hi, Mum," I said taking a seat. I received a glare.

"Sorry, good morning, Professor Potter," I said.

"So, what do you do with Emmy and Sarah while you are teaching?" I asked.

"They wander around, with a house-elf to keep them in check and make sure they don't get lost," Mum said.

Rhiannon opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, the rest of the class walked in.

"Take a seat anywhere you like," Mum said, smiling. "As you know, my name is Professor Potter, and I'll be your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this year. I have a few ground rules. No talking while I am talking or someone else is, you can talk quietly amongst yourselves while you are doing written work, no passing notes, and don't try any pranks, I know them all.

"Let's get started, shall we? My job is to teach you how to defend yourselves against Dark creatures, and Dark magic. But we will start with the Disarming Charm. Who can tell me what that is?"

Rhiannon's hand and mine shot up.

"Rhiannon?"

"The charm's _expelliarmus_, and it is used for knocking your opponent's wand out of his or her hand," Rhiannon said.

"Right, five points to Gryffindor. That's what you'll be doing today, pick a partner and line up, opposite each other." With a swish of her wand, the desks were moved out of the way. "Those on the right, will begin. Go."

Soon shouts of 'expelliarmus' were heard. By the end of the class, only me, Rhiannon, Ginny, and Henrietta managed to Disarm each other more than once. Earning us five points each. When the bell rang, we headed to Potions. Unfortunately, we had it with the Slytherins. We queued up next to the door, and waited for the teacher to let us in. when the door opened, it was the same hook-nosed teacher I saw talking to Mum last night. His hair was greasy, and he wore black robes.

"In," he said. We filed past him, and we sat at the back. Gryffindors on one side, Slytherins on the other. The teacher took out the register, and paused at my name.

"Elizabeth Potter," the teacher looked at me like he had saw, for lack of a better word, a ghost. "Ah, yes, sister of Harry Potter. I hope you're not expecting special treatment, Miss Potter, unlike your brother." Harry expecting special treatment? That didn't sound like Harry, then it clicked, this must be Professor Snape.

"I'm not expecting special treatment, sir, unlike that lot over there, waiting to receive favouritism," I said coolly. Snape said nothing, and finished reading the register.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic at all. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death, that is, if you aren't like the nitwits I usually teach," he spoke in a barely a whisper, but we could hear every word he said. He split us into pairs, and set us to working on a simple potion for curing boils. I was paired with Rhiannon, while Henrietta and Ginny were working together.

"What d'you think of Snape?" Rhiannon asked.

"Absolutely horrid," I said darkly as he criticized Guinevere Cooper and Ailsa Livingstone's potion. "You?"

"Same." We didn't speak for the rest of the lesson, and we were quite glad when the bell rang for lunch.

"What d'you two think of Snape?" I asked Ginny and Henrietta.

"Horrible, did you see how he treated Guinevere and Ailsa?" Henrietta asked.

"He _fawned _over the Slytherins, did you see him praising Harper?" Ginny added darkly, as the Slytherins walked by. We walked into the Great Hall and ate silently. When we had finished, we went outside, where the sky was overcast. We passed Harry, Ron, and Hermione as we walked into the courtyard. Hermione was reading a book, while Harry and Ron were talking about Quidditch.

"What do we have this afternoon?" I asked.

"Transfiguration with the Ravenclaws," Rhiannon answered.

"What do we have tomorrow?" Ginny asked.

"Herbology, Charms, History of Magic, and Astronomy," Henrietta answered.

"History of Magic will be boring, Harry says Professor Binns talks about goblin wars and such forever, not to mention Binns is a ghost," I said. We fell silent, for a moment.

"So, what d'you think of Hogwarts, Henrietta?" I asked.

"It's _brilliant_," she replied. "My mother was going to send me to finishing school –it's an all-girl school– but then McGonagall showed up, and well, you know the rest. I still can't believe all the odd stuff that was happening was magic. Oddly enough, my parents never noticed."

I was about to say something, but I heard a loud and scathing voice instead.

"_Signed photos_? You're giving out _signed photos_, Potter?"

We walked over to get a better look, Colin Creevey was standing in front of Harry, with Malfoy and his two cronies.

"Everyone queue up!" Malfoy yelled to the crowd. "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"

"No, I'm not," Harry said angrily, clenching his fists. "Shut up, Malfoy."

"You're just jealous," Colin piped up.

"_Jealous_?" Malfoy repeated. "Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself."

Malfoy's cronies were sniggering.

"Eat slugs, Malfoy," Ron said angrily.

"Be careful, Weasley," Malfoy sneered. "You don't want to start any trouble or your mummy'll have to come and take you away from school." He put on a shrill, piercing voice. "_If you put another toe out of line_–"

A bunch of Slytherin fifth years laughed.

"Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter. It'd be worth more than his whole family's house." Malfoy smirked.

Ron whipped out his Spellotaped wand, but Rhiannon spoke before he could do anything.

"Leave them alone, Malfoy," Rhiannon snapped.

"No, I don't think I will, Black," Malfoy said.

"Here, Colin, I'll take the picture for you," I said good-naturedly, "but asking Harry to sign it, I think, is going a bit too far." I gave Harry a glare, _do it, or else_. Colin eagerly passed me his camera, and stood next to Harry.

"On the count of three, say Quidditch," I said. "Harry, _smile_, or I'm giving you Devil's Snare and a Venemous Tentacula for Christmas. That's what I thought. One… two… three!"

"Quidditch!" Colin said enthusiastically, while Harry said it like his life was over. The bell rang as I handed Colin his camera.

"Don't worry about Malfoy," I whispered to Harry, "Rhiannon and I'll get him back."

"What'll you do?"

"I'm thinking a Filibuster Firework, and a Dungbomb," I said as I headed to Transfiguration with my friends.

* * *

Lizzie's POV 

_September 4, 1992_

_TGIF_

The rest of the week passed uneventfully, except Thursday, we managed to get Malfoy back. We convinced Peeves to put a Firework and a Dungbomb into Malfoy's bag, we told Peeves the Dungbomb must go in front of the Firework. So, when Malfoy was leaving Transfiguration, he stowed his wand in his bag, it touched the firework, and needless to say, it caused a _big_mess. Malfoy has detention with McGonagall tonight. Filch was _not_happy.

But we have Friday afternoons off, so we decided to check out the grounds. We wandered around until Ginny suggested we go and see Hagrid. We headed towards Hagrid's hut, but we spotted him in his vegetable patch, with the biggest pumpkins I've ever seen. They were the size of _boulders_.

"What're yeh doing down here?" Hagrid asked.

"Just looking around the grounds," Ginny answered.

"What d'yeh think of yer mum teachin', Lizzie?"

"'S'all right, I s'pose. Weird, but all right," I said, looking at the pumpkins.

"How's yer dad, Rhiannon?"

"He's good, probably driving Remus mad," Rhiannon answered, she too, was looking at the pumpkins.

"What do yeh think of them?" Hagrid asked, following our gaze.

"You've done a good job on them," Ginny said. "Well, come on, we had better get back to the castle, it's dinnertime. Bye, Hagrid." I looked at my watch; so it was.

"Bye, Hagrid!" Rhiannon and I said, and we followed Ginny and Henrietta.

* * *

_Lizzie's POV_

_September 5__th__, 1992_

_Dawn_

I woke up at the crack of dawn because there were people on the stairs. Three girls, to be exact. I opened the door to the dormitory and peaked out. There was a third year, and two fourth years. They were wearing scarlet Quidditch robes.

"What's going on?" I asked them.

"Quidditch practice," the third year answered. "Hang on, your Harry's sister aren't you?"

"One of them," I answered.

"I'm Katie Bell," the girl said, "this is Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet. Well, we had better be off, or Oliver won't be too happy. See you around."

"Bye," I said, and went into the dormitory. I put my robes on, and woke Henrietta up.

"Whassamatter?" she asked sleepily.

"Wanna see a bit of Quidditch?" I asked.

"Yeah!"

"Well, come on, then, the Gryffindor Quidditch team is practising now." She got out of bed, pulled her robes on, while I wrote a note to Rhiannon and Ginny explaining where we would be. But when we got out there, they were still in the change room. We talked as Colin Creevey and Harry came out on the pitch, Colin made his way over here, while Harry went into the change room. The sun was rising as Rhiannon joined us, with toast.

"I never thought I'd see the day when Rhiannon woke up before seven of her own accord," I said, grabbing a piece of toast.

"Shut up," she said. "Or I'm going back to bed."

"Where's Ginny?" Henrietta asked.

"She was still sleeping when I got up," Rhiannon answered.

When the sun had properly risen, Ron and Hermione had joined us, and the team walked onto the field.

"Aren't you finished yet?" Ron yelled incredulously.

"Haven't even started," Harry called back. "Wood's been teaching us new moves."

Harry mounted his broom, and began to race Fred and George, while Colin took picture after picture.

"Look this way, Harry! This way!" he called shrilly.

"Why're the Slytherins coming onto the pitch?" Henrietta asked.

"Dunno, d'you reckon we should find out?" I asked.

"Flint!" Wood bellowed at the Captain of the Slytherin team. "This our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

"Let's go," Hermione said to Ron. They got up and we followed. We walked over to where the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams were standing.

"What's happening?" Ron asked Harry. "Why aren't you playing? And what's _he_doing here?"

I noticed Malfoy standing there in green Quidditch robes, holding a _Nimbus Two Thousand and One_.

"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley," Malfoy said arrogantly. "Everyone's just been admiring the broom's my father's bought our team."

Ron gaped at the seven superb brooms in front of him.

"Good, aren't they?" Malfoy said easily. "But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives, I expect a museum would bid for them."

The Slytherin team howled with laughter. Rhiannon and I opened our mouths to retort, but Hermione beat us to it.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to _buy _their way in," she said sharply. "_They _got in on pure talent.

Malfoy's smug look flickered.

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," he spat._  
_

* * *

_Henrietta_'_s POV_

_September 5, 1992_

_Early morning_

_Utterly bewildered_

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," Malfoy spat. It's curious at what one word can do. The moment Malfoy said it, everyone went mad. I was extremely confused and utterly bewildered, people didn't even go this mad when a kid swore. How could one word be so _atrocious_. Flint had to dive in front of Malfoy to stop Fred, George, Lizzie, and Rhiannon from jumping on Malfoy, Alicia Spinnet shrieked, "_How dare you_!", and Ron plunged into his robes, pulled out his wand, yelling, "You'll pay for that one Malfoy!" He pointed his wand furiously under Flint's arm at Malfoy's face.

A loud bang echoed across the stadium, and a jet of green light came out of the wrong end of Ron's wand, hitting him in the stomach, sent him reeling backwards onto the grass.

"Ron! Ron! Are you all right?" Hermione squealed.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, he gave an almighty belch, and several slugs trickled out of his mouth into his lap.

The Slytherins were paralysed with laughter. Flint was clutching his new broom for support. Malfoy was on all floors, banging the ground with his fist. The Gryffindors were gathered around Ron, who kept belching up large slugs. None of us seemed to want to touch him.

"We'd better him to Hagrid's, it's nearest," Harry said. Hermione nodded bravely, and the pair of them seized Ron underneath the armpits and pulled.

"What happened, Harry? What happened? Is he ill? But you can cure him, can't you?" Colin must've run from his seat and was now skipping alongside Harry and Hermione as they left the pitch. Ron belched again, and more slugs trickled down his front.

"Ooh," Colin said fascinated, and raised his camera. "Can you hold him still, Harry?"

"Get out of the way, Colin!" Harry said angrily, and he and Hermione left the stadium.

"Come on," Lizzie said, tugging at my sleeve, "let's go see if Ginny's awake."

We left the Gryffindor team glaring daggers at the Slytherin team.

"What was that all about? What was that word Malfoy said?" I asked once we were out of earshot.

"'Mudblood', it was the most insulting thing he could think of. Mudblood's a really horrible name for someone who's Muggle-born. There're some wizard's –like _most _of Rhiannon's family or Malfoy's– that think they're better than everyone else, 'cause they're what people call pure-blood. Most know it doesn't matter," Lizzie explained. "I mean, look at Mum, she's Muggle-born, and she was the best in her year when she was here."

"It's an appalling thing to call someone," Rhiannon added. "Dirty blood, common blood. Most witches and wizards are half-bloods anyway. If we hadn't married Muggles we'd've died out."

"But you told me both your parents have no Muggle ancestors," I pointed out. "That makes you a pure-blood."

"Yes, but my mum and dad rebelled against their parents. I'm what you'd call a blood-traitor, so are the Weasleys, same with Lizzie's dad. Lizzie's half-blood," Rhiannon explained.

"See, this was Voldemort's big thing, we shouldn't let Muggle-borns into Hogwarts, they weren't brought up in our ways, and that wizards should rule Muggles, that sort of thing," Lizzie said.

We went up to Gryffindor Tower, where we found Ginny awake, and wasted no time in telling her what had happened.

* * *

**Author's Note: There's roughly six more chapters that covers COS, then I'll move on to GOF. I'll cover POA in the first chapter I write concerning GOF, unless I have more than five people saying different. Should I make this all one story (COS, GOF, OOTP, HBP, & DH), or parts like, ****A Different Story, But The Same II: GOF**** (if it doesn't fit, ****ADS, BTS II: GOF****)? Sorry about the abrupt change of POV, but I felt like Henrietta being confused would be better than Lizzie or Rhiannon cursing (swearing) at Malfoy. **


	8. Chapter 8: Terrible Things

**Disclaimer: **_**I own Harry Potter?! **__**Woohooooooo! **_**Alarm clock goes off.**** Bugger. I'm awake, and it had been such a good dream.

* * *

**

**Chapter Eight **

**Terrible Things **

_Lizzie_'_s POV_

_October 31__st__, 1992_

_All Hallows_'_ Eve_

Not much happened leading up to Hallowe'en, unless you counted Percy bullying Ginny into taking Pepperup Potion –which leaves steam pouring out of your ears for hours afterward– it left us laughing for hours on end because Ginny's head looked like it was on fire, and Fred and George feeding a Filibuster Firework to a 'rescued' Salamander. It had been smouldering gently on table surrounded by a group of curious people –Rhiannon, Henri, Ginny, and I included– but it didn't last. The Salamander had suddenly zoomed into the air, releasing sparks and loud bangs as it twirled widely around the common room. Percy had bellowed himself hoarse at Fred and George. Even Mum, who had come to get Sarah and Emmy for bed, didn't have heart to say something; instead, she joined in the laughter.

At seven, the entire school went to the Great Hall, well, the entire school except Harry, Ron, and Hermione, they were going to Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday Party, and Ginny didn't come either, she had looked a bit peaky, but of course, I forgot all about that the moment I walked into the Hall.

Live bats and Hagrid's giant pumpkins –which were now jack-o'-lanterns– decorated the Great Hall, and Dumbledore had booked a troupe of dancing skeletons for entertainment.

When we walked into the Great Hall, I half-expected Henri to shriek out in surprise at the bats and dancing skeletons, instead, she looked 'round in amazement. I looked at her surprised.

"Tomboy," she said, "but I s'pose those are _real _skeletons?"

"Yup," I answered. We took our seats, and waited for the rest of the school to take theirs, so the feast could begin.

Once the rest of the school was seated, Dumbledore started the feast. Just like the start-of-term banquet the food appeared on the plates right in front of us. We didn't talk too much, except making the odd suggestion about what we should try, once the puddings had appeared.

"The feast is almost over," Rhiannon said, after some time. "I reckon we got about five minutes left."

She was right. The last of puddings disappeared, and Dumbledore dismissed us for bed. We had only reached the first floor, when Henri pointed something out.

"Look! Look at the wall!" she whispered. Rhiannon and I looked where she was pointing. Written, in what looked like _blood_, was:

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

In the middle of the corridor, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood alone, as the crowd fell silent.

"Isn't that Mrs. Norris, hanging off the torch bracket?" Rhiannon asked.

"Looks like," I replied. Then, somebody shouted through the quiet.

"Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

It was Malfoy. He had pushed his way towards the front, his eyes alive, his face flushed, as he grinned at the sight of Mrs. Norris.

"Come on, Rhee," I said, grabbing her wrist, and began pushing my to the front. People were so stunned, that they just moved. By the time we had made it to the front, Filch had arrived.

"What's going on here? What's going on?" he asked. He pushed his way through the crowd, and then he saw Mrs. Norris.

"My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" he screeched, and then his eyes fell on Harry.

"_You_! _You_! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll–"

"_Argus_!"

Dumbledore had arrived, followed by several teachers. In seconds, he had swept past my brother and his friends, and removed Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket.

"Come with me, Argus," he said to Filch. "You too, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger."

"You can use my office, if you'd like, Professor," Mum said, stepping forward with a very sleepy Sarah and Emmy following.

"Thank you, Lily," Dumbledore said. Mum scanned the crowd; she stopped when her eyes had fallen on Rhiannon and me.

"Lizzie, Rhiannon, could you come and put Sarah and Emmy to bed for me?" she asked.

"Sure, Professor," we said in unison. The crowd parted to let us pass, Professors McGonagall and Snape followed Dumbledore, and Mum let them pass so we could talk.

"You are a genius," I said to Mum.

She smiled. "I know."

We walked into Mum's office; it was very dark. Mum darted to her desk and lit candles. I noticed some photos on her desk; her and dad on their wedding day, with Sirius and Melody in it too, a photo of all of us before Melody died, Mum held Sarah, Dad held me, Sirius held Harry, Melody held Rhiannon, and Remus stood off to the side, a photo of us kids, and a photo of Mum, Dad, Harry, and me. For some reason, Snape scowled at the first and last photo. Dumbledore laid Mrs. Norris on Mum's desk, and examined her closely, with McGonagall bent just as close. Snape was half in the shadows, and Filch had slumped into a chair, with his face in his hands. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat in chairs, just outside the light. Mum handed me a candle, and Sarah and Emmy led us to where they slept. I lit the candles that were in torch brackets, and glanced at the room. It was a small room, with two wardrobes, two four posters, and a desk. Sarah and Emmy sat on their respective beds.

"Which one d'you want?" I asked Rhiannon.

"Sarah," she said, dashing over to Sarah's wardrobe, and pulled out a nightgown. I walked over to Emma's and did the same thing, before going over to her.

"Arms up, Emmy," I instructed. She lifted her arms, and I pulled her robes over her head, and pulled the gown over her head. I removed the ponytail, brushed her hair, and began braiding it. When I had finished, Sarah had already fallen asleep, and Emma-Lynn laid down, muttered goodnight, closed her eyes, and promptly fell asleep. They had been asleep for a while, when I heard Dumbledore speak. Rhiannon and I sat right by the door.

"She's not dead, Argus," he said quietly.

"Not dead?" Filch choked. "But why's she all– all stiff and frozen?"

"She has been Petrified," Dumbledore said. "But how I cannot say…"

"Ask _him_!" Filch screeched, and I could only assume he meant my brother.

"No second year could do this," Dumbledore said firmly. "It would take Dark Magic of the most advanced–"

"He did it, he did it!" Filch spat. "You saw what he wrote on the wall! He found –in my office– he knows I'm a– I'm a– He knows I'm a Squid!"

"I never_ touched _Mrs. Norris!" Harry said loudly. "And I don't even know what a Squib _is_."

"Rubbish! He saw my Kwikspell letter!"

I blew out the candles, took the one Mum gave us, and stormed over to where they were.

"Harry, where on Earth have you lived the last twelve years of your life? With Muggles?"

"Lizzie," Mum said sharply.

"Sorry," I said as Rhiannon and I sunk into the shadows.

"If I might speak, Headmaster," Snape said. "Potter and his friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but we do have a suspicious set of circumstances here. Why were they in the upstairs corridor at all? Why weren't they at the Hallowe'en feast?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all launched into an explanation about the Deathday Party, "…there were hundreds of ghosts, they'll tell you we were there–"

"But why not join the feast afterwards? Why go up to that corridor?" Snape asked.

"Because– because– because we were tired and wanted to go to bed," Harry answered.

"Without any supper?" Snape said. "I didn't think ghosts provided food fit for living people at their parties."

"We weren't hungry," Ron said loudly, as his stomach rumbled audibly.

"I suggest, Headmaster, that Potter is not being entirely truthful. It might be a good idea if he were deprived of certain privileges until he is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel he should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready to be honest," Snape said.

"Really, Severus," McGonagall said sharply. "I see no reason to stop the boy playing Quidditch. This cat wasn't hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Potter has done anything wrong."

Dumbledore gave Harry a searching look.

"Innocent until proven guilty, Severus," he said.

Snape looked furious, as did Filch.

"My cat has been Petrified! I want to see some _punishment_!" Filch screeched.

"We will be able to cure her, Argus," Dumbledore said. "Madam Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made which will revive Mrs. Norris."

"I think you can go now, you three," Mum said. "Unless you have any objections, Headmaster?"

"None," replied Dumbledore.

"Off you go then, you too, Elizabeth and Rhiannon," Mum said. The five us scurried from the room. Rhiannon and I half-ran, half-walked to Gryffindor Tower. In the common room, alone, was Henri.

"I was starting to wonder if you were ever coming back," she said. "It's almost midnight."

"Mrs. Norris isn't dead," I informed her.

"She isn't? What's wrong with her, then?"

"She's been Petrified," Rhiannon answered, "but they'll be able to cure her, with Mandrakes."

"Snape tried to get Harry banned from Quidditch," I said. "Hey, where's Ginny?"

"Bed," Henri answered, "Something 'bout a diary and cats, didn't quite catch it."

"Did you tell her about the attack?" I asked.

"Yeah, she looked severely shaken," Henri said. "And when I asked her what she did tonight, she didn't answer me."

"That is strange," Rhiannon said.

"But never mind right now, tell me all what you heard," Henri demanded.

"Sit," I instructed.

We told her everything we heard, and explained what needed to be explained. When we had finished, Henri was silent.

"Peculiar," she said, speaking at last. The clocked chimed.

"It's half past midnight," Rhiannon said. "We should go to bed."

We got up, and silently went to bed.

* * *

_Normal POV_

_Early November_

The school talked of nothing else, except of the attack for the next few days. Lizzie and Rhiannon didn't seem too concerned… about themselves. They were more worried about Lily, Henri, and Ginny. Lily and Henri for obvious reasons, but right now they were more concerned about Ginny. Ginny was severely shaken. Lizzie and Rhiannon tried to cheer her up.

"But Dumbledore'll be able to cure Mrs. Norris, I heard Dumbledore say it myself," Lizzie tried.

"Yeah, she'll be cured at the end of the year, Ginny, she's not even dead," Rhiannon added.

When they had failed, Ron tried.

"But you hadn't really got to know Mrs. Norris," Ron had told her bracingly. "Honestly, we're much better off without her." Ginny's lip trembled. "Stuff like this doesn't often happen at Hogwarts," Ron assured her. "They'll catch the nutter who did and have him out of here in no time. I just hope he's got time to Petrify Filch before he's expelled. I'm only joking–" he added as Ginny paled.

"And you said we were going about the wrong way to cheer her up," Lizzie had said.

It was just after Transfiguration, when Lizzie heard Ravenclaw Sean Brennan say to Colin Creevey, "I reckon Potter's the Heir of Slytherin, you know, with him being found near the cat and all."

Lizzie spun around. "My brother is _not _the Heir of Slytherin," she snapped.

"Oh, yeah? What's make you so sure?" Brennan asked.

"Because if he was, I'd be related to Slytherin also, and so would my sisters, _and _we'd be able to speak Parseltongue," Lizzie said angrily.

"I'd shut up if I were you," Rhiannon advised. "Before her temper snaps, and trust me, you don't want to be around when it does, and that was _before _she had a _wand_."

Brennan's eye trailed to Lizzie's right hand, where her wand was, and sparks shot out of it.

"Come on, let's go," Brennan said, looking a bit frightened. The Ravenclaws went the other way.

"What _is_ Parseltongue?" Henri asked.

"Snake language," Rhiannon answered.

"_Snake language_?" Henri asked in disbelief.

"That's what I said, didn't I?"

"People here can talk to snakes?"

"Well, probably none, Voldemort's probably the last one," Lizzie said.

"Salazar Slytherin could talk to snakes too, which is why the symbol of Slytherin house is a snake," Rhiannon said.

"Why would anyone want to talk to a snake?" Henri asked. "I mean, the only good that would come out of it is, if you're lost in the woods or someone's being attacked by a snake."

"Which is why Parseltongue is the mark of a Dark wizard, usually," Lizzie explained.

"Huh," Henri said wonderingly as they joined the crowd heading to dinner.

**Author's Note: Okay, I'm gonna try something new (for me), I'm going to put a preview of the next chapter. Goals: Will encourage me to write faster, will keep the reader in suspense or at least, eagerly waiting for the next chapter, and will help me to stay on track. And I'm sorry this chapter is short, it's only four pages on my computer, but I honestly have no idea what to put, and I'm also sorry for the crappy ending. Oh, and I can't believe I was so **_**stupid **_**enough to put GOS and GOB instead of GOF, **_**and **_**that I spelled Ginevra wrong, I had Ginerva instead. Ugh… I can't **_**believe **_**no one pointed that out. And I call myself a Harry Potter fan, I feel ashamed. Yeah, I'll go have my breakdown somewhere else.

* * *

**

**Preview: Ch. 9: Quidditch Hurts**

Madam Hooch whistled, and the game began, with Harry flying higher than the rest.

"The Quaffle is taken by Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint, he streaks toward the goalposts, Keeper Wood gets ready– Flint shoots, he scores."

"Gryffindor in possession– Johnson flies to the hoops– OUCH– that must've hurt– she drops the Quaffle– Slytherin back in possession– Pucey passes to Flint, who passes to Montague– come on, Wood– I don't believe it– Slytherin scores."

Slytherin scored three more times.

Fred and George were flying close to Harry to protect him from the rogue Bludger.

"And Wood signals for a time out, the Gryffindor team flies to the ground.

The Gryffindor cheers drowned the Slytherins' moans.

Harry had already hit the ground.

"Gryffindor won! Harry won!" Rhiannon shouted. "We kicked Malfoy's a… erm… butt!"

"I love Quidditch! Henri shouted.

We ran across the pitch to where Harry was still lying unconscious.

Mum kneeled next to Harry and peered over him. "Hey, Harry, how's your arm?"

"You fly just like James," Mum said grinning.

Mum raised her wand.

"Great capture, Harry, really spectacular, your best yet, I'd say."

Mum began waving her wand. She was almost done, when Emmy tugged on her arm, which resulted in Mum finishing by pointing her wand at Harry's broken arm.

"Oh, my God," I said, as Harry walked past.

"Now!" Fred and George shouted.

"So, what's wrong with Harry?" Fred asked.

"Well, I s'pose we'll see you in the hospital wing if you're going to visit Harry."

We burst into the hospital wing, with the Quidditch team still filthy and soaking wet.

"Unbelievable flying, Harry," George said. "I've just seen Marcus Flint yelling at Malfoy.


	9. Chapter 9: Quidditch Hurts

**Disclaimer: I do ****NOT**** own Harry Potter, I'd love to, but, sadly I do not.**

**Author's Note: For those who have read this since the beginning, I have rewritten the first chapter. If you could just go and read it, and tell me if it's better or worse, that would help me _so _much. Thanks.****Chapter Nine **

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

**Quidditch Hurts**

_Lizzie's POV_

_Saturday, November 7, 1992_

_Quidditch_

Today is the first Quidditch match of the season. I can't wait. Gryffindor versus Slytherin. I mean, talent wins Quidditch, not Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones. Mum is going to watch the match with us, with the Gryffindors. She says she knows houses don't matter when you're not at Hogwarts, but she's a Gryffindor at heart. So, yeah, I can't wait for eleven o'clock.

At quarter to eleven, we made our way down to the Quidditch pitch. A few minutes after we had reached our seats, we were joined by Ron and Hermione, and Hagrid. The entire school was seated before the teams came out on the pitch. From here, you could just see Wood and Flint shaking hands. Madam Hooch whistled, and the game began, with Harry flying higher than the rest.

"The Quaffle is taken by Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint, he streaks toward the goalposts, Keeper Wood gets ready– Flint shoots, he scores."

The Gryffindors groaned, while the Slytherins cheered.

"Gryffindor in possession– Johnson flies to the hoops– OUCH– that must've hurt– she drops the Quaffle– Slytherin back in possession– Pucey passes to Flint, who passes to Montague– come on, Wood– I don't believe it– Slytherin scores."

There was something strange about this game, one of the Bludgers was only targeting Harry, which is odd, because it's the Bludgers job to unseat as many players as possible.

Slytherin scored three more times.

"Slytherin lead, sixty to zero."

About ten minutes ago, it had started to rain. Fred and George were flying close to Harry to protect him from the rogue Bludger.

"And Wood signals for a time out, the Gryffindor team flies to the ground. 'Course, time out can only last for a couple of minutes. And yes, they are back in the air. It seems Harry will be dealing with the rogue Bludger on his own, as the Weasley twins protect the rest of their team. And already Pucey is attempting to score– he shoots– come on, Wood!– he blocks it!"

The Gryffindor cheers drowned the Slytherins' moans.

"Gryffindor in possession– Bell flies down to the pitch– passes to Spinnet, who passes to Johnson– come on, Angelina, you can do it!– she scores!– sixty to ten, Slytherin– OUCH– the Bludger has just slammed into Harry's elbow– I'm sure it's safe to say, it's broken– he speeds towards Malfoy– Malfoy moves out of the way– Harry takes his left hand off his broom– he makes a wild snatch– I don't believe it! He has the Snitch! Gryffindor wins with one hundred and sixty to sixty!"

Harry had already hit the ground. The crowd went mad. There was whistling and shouting. My family, friends, and I were adding a great deal to the noise.

"Gryffindor won! We won! Harry won!" Rhiannon shouted. "We kicked Malfoy's a… erm… butt!"

"Take that Nimbus Two Thousands! Take that Malfoy! Gryffindor won!" I shouted.

"That was amazing! I love Quidditch! He'll be all right, won't he?" Henri shouted.

"Oh, yeah, Madam Pomfrey'll be able to fix him up, no problem," Mum shouted. "He flies like your father used to, you do too, when I stop to think about it."

"That's our brother!" Emmy and Sarah were shouting.

"Shouldn't we make sure he's okay?" Hermione asked anxiously. "He looks like he fainted."

"'Course he's fine, he faced You-Know-Who last year, didn't he?" Ron said.

"Well, come on, then, let's go see him," Mum said. We followed her out of the stands. We ran across the pitch to where Harry was still lying unconscious. Fred and George had wrestled the rogue Bludger down to the ground, now they were trying to get it into a box. It was putting up a good fight.

"D'you want some help? We'll close the lid, if you ever get it in there?" I asked, indicating me and Rhiannon.

Fred nodded. So, Rhiannon and I stood behind the lid, ready to slam it, while Henri and Ginny went to how Harry was.

Mum kneeled next to Harry and peered over him. He must've come to, because I heard him say, "Hi, Mum."

"Hey, Harry, how's your arm?"

"It hurts, a lot."

"You fly just like James," Mum said grinning. I heard a familiar clicking noise. Sure enough, Harry heard it too.

"I don't want a photo of this, Colin," he said loudly. Mum raised her wand.

"Why can't I just go to the hospital wing?" Harry asked.

"He should really, Professor," a muddy Wood said, grinning, even though his Seeker was injured. "Great capture, Harry, really spectacular, your best yet, I'd say."

"Relax, I was only go to make you a sling, if that's all right," Mum said. Harry nodded. Mum began waving her wand. She was almost done, when Emmy tugged on her arm, which resulted in Mum finishing by pointing her wand at Harry's broken arm. I heard the crowd gasp.

"Emmy, this is what happens when you break my concentration," Mum said, sounding frustrated. "Harry, you can hold a grudge against your sister for as long as you like. Well, your bones aren't broken, and I reckon Madam Pomfrey will not be too thrilled with me. Ron, Hermione, would you escort him to the hospital wing for me? I have to changed these two into clean clothes."

"Oh, my God," I said, as Harry walked past. His arm looked like a flesh-coloured rubber glove. Mum hadn't conjured a sling, she had –accidentally– removed the bones in his arm.

"Now!" Fred and George shouted. Rhiannon and I slammed the lid shut, and flung ourselves on the lid as they locked the box.

"Thanks," George panted.

"No problem," Rhiannon said.

"So, what's wrong with Harry?" Fred asked.

"Mum accidentally removed the bones of his right arm," I said.

"I'd say, 'ouch', but I don't think you can feel pain if there's no bones in your arm," George said.

"No, I don't think so," I said. "Well, we're going back to the castle to changed into something drier. Well, I s'pose we'll see you in the hospital wing if you're going to visit Harry."

We quickly headed into the castle, headed up to Gryffindor Tower, gave the password. We dashed up to the dormitory. Henri, Ginny, and Guinevere Cooper were sitting on their respective beds.

"How's your brother?" Guinevere asked, as I rummaged through my wardrobe.

"Dunno, haven't seen him since he left the pitch, there're no bones in his right arm," I said, locating a robe, seizing it, pulling the wet one over my head, and jamming the clean one over my head. "Going to see him right now. Coming, Rhee?" She nodded. "See you soon," I called.

We tore down the stairs, and ran to the hospital wing. We reached there at the same time as the Quidditch team did. We burst into the hospital wing, with the Quidditch team still filthy and soaking wet.

"Unbelievable flying, Harry," George said. "I've just seen Marcus Flint yelling at Malfoy. Something about having the Snitch on top of his head, and not noticing. Malfoy didn't seem too happy."

The team had brought cakes, sweets, and bottles of pumpkin juice. We gathered around Harry's bed, and were just starting what had promised to be a good party, when Madam Pomfrey stormed over, shouting, "This boy needs rest, he's got thirty-three bones to regrow! Out! OUT!"

And poor Harry was left alone.

* * *

_Lizzie's POV_

_Near the end of November_

_Gryffindor Common Room_

On November eighth, the school had found out Colin Creevey had been attacked by the Heir of Slytherin. Ginny was pretty distraught, I think mainly 'cause she sat next to him in Charms. Fred and George did try to cheer her up, by jumping out from behind statues covered in either fur or boils. They did look funny covered furs. They only stopped when Percy told them he was going to write to Mrs. Weasley and tell her Ginny was having nightmares.

Not to mention, hidden form the teachers, a thriving trade in talismans, amulets, and other protective devices, was sweeping the school. Henri almost bought an amulet until Rhiannon and I stopped her.

"But I'm a Muggle-born, I'm bound to be attacked," she protested.

"They _never_ work, Mum told this sort of thing popped up with Voldemort, you'd buy it, and when you put it on, it'd turned your ears purple or something," I explained as Rhiannon and I dragged her away.

Tonight, we –Rhiannon, Henri, and I– were sitting in the common room by ourselves, so we could talk about Ginny.

"I'm worried about her," I said.

"I think we all are," Rhiannon said.

"She's becoming more reclusive, writing in that diary more than she should," Henri said.

"That diary knows more about her than we do," I agreed.

"And where was she on Hallowe'en?" Rhiannon asked. "Did I tell you I found rooster feathers under her bed?"

"No," Henri and I said simultaneously.

"Yeah," Rhiannon said. This was bad, one of Hagrid's roosters had been killed recently. "You don't think?"

"Nah," I said. "She's eleven. I think some time in the library needs to happen."

"We're her friends, do you think she'll tell us if something's wrong?" Henri asked.

"Probably not," Rhiannon said. "She'll think we'll turn on her."

"But doesn't she trust us?" Henri asked.

"Yes, but in the wizarding world, it's so easy to be scorned," I explained. "All you have to be is a half-blood, half-breed, Muggle-born, werewolf, attack Muggle-borns, family associations, et cetera. It's just so _easy_."

"So, what do we do?" Henri asked.

"We watch her," Rhiannon said, glancing at the top of the stairs.

**Author's Note: Okay, just a short little chapter, only 3 pages on my computer. Next chapter: The Duelling Club. Then Christmas, not sure after that. **

**Preview: Ch. 10: The Duelling Club**

"First meeting tonight!"

"Dunno," I replied.

"Maybe it's Lily," Rhiannon said.

"Looks like you're right, Rhiannon," Ginny said, pointing at one end of the stage. Mum was walking onto the stage, wearing robes of black, followed by Snape, wearing his usual black.

Mum and Snape turned to face each other, and bowed.

"We are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Mum informed us. "_Expelliarmus_!" cried Snape.

"Professor Snape used a Disarming Charm, as my first years will know.

Mum reached us before Snape did, she paired me with Rhiannon, and Henri and Ginny together. I glanced over to where Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood, Snape had reached them, and had paired Ron with Seamus Finnigan, Hermione with a Slytherin named Millicent Bulstrode, and Harry with Malfoy.

"Face your partners," Mum called, she was back on the stage, "and bow!"

It hit Guinevere. "Oops, sorry, Guinevere!"

"I think Harry's having the same problem," Rhiannon said, pointing. Sure enough, Harry's legs were dancing uncontrollably.

"_Finite Incantatem_!" Mum yelled from the stage. Harry's feet stopped moving, and Ginny and Henri stopped laughing. Neville, Justin, how about you?"

"Bad idea, Professor Ev– Potter," Snape said, gliding over like a large bat. Neville's face went pink.

Mum quickly glanced at Harry. "Excellent idea, Professor Snape. Rhiannon asked.

We edged closer to the stage, with Ginny and Henri following. Mum murmured something to Harry, he nodded, and Mum backed away.

Malfoy raised his wand quickly, and bellowed, "_Serpensortia_!"

The snake slithered straight towards Justin Finch-Fletchley, and it raised itself again, fangs exposed, prepared to strike.

Harry suddenly started walking towards the snake, and shouted. The snake backed off from Justin. Harry looked up at Justin, grinning.

Snape stepped forward, waved his wand, and the snake disappeared in a small puff of black smoke. Henri stared at Rhiannon, Ginny, and me, looking utterly bewildered.

"Apparently, Harry's a Parselmouth," I said.

"Yeah, snake language," Henri said. "But what about Lizzie, can't she speak Parseltongue?"

"Hey, Potter, wait up!"

Halfway through, Ginny excused herself to use the washroom.

"ATTACK! ATTACK!"

Professor McGonagall came running, followed by her own class, one of whom had black and white hair.

"_Caught in the act_!" he yelled, his face white, pointing his finger at Harry dramatically.

Peeves was floating overhead, grinning wickedly, surveying the scene; Peeves loved chaos.

"Where were you, Ginny?

"You don't look so good, Ginny."

Because Ginny couldn't possibly be–?


	10. Chapter 10: The Duelling Club

**Disclaimer: I own a mere few, the rest belong to JKR**

* * *

**Chapter Ten **

**The Duelling Club**

_Lizzie's POV_

_Third week of December_

During the second week of December, Professor McGonagall came around, collecting names of those who would be staying during the holidays. I signed the list, as did Henri, because she has no where else to go. Fred, George, and Ginny had chosen to stay rather than go with their parents to visit Bill in Egypt. Percy told us he's only staying because it's his duty as a Prefect to support the teachers in this troubled time. Rhiannon wasn't sure what to do at first, she wrote to Sirius, and he said he was fine with her staying. So, in the end, she signed the list too. Ron and Hermione are also staying. I think a few others are staying too.

Today, while we were walking across the Entrance Hall, a knot of people gathered in front of the notice board, reading a piece of parchment that had just been pinned up. We walked over.

"They're starting a Duelling Club!" Guinevere said excitedly. "First meeting tonight! Might come in handy these days."

"We're going," Ailsa informed us. "What about you?"

I quickly read the sign with interest, the meeting had been set for eight o'clock. "Rhee, do we have detention tonight?"

"Nope," Rhiannon answered.

"We'll be there," I told Guinevere and Ailsa, before heading into the Great Hall for dinner.

Eight o'clock found us among the chattering crowd. The House tables had vanished, and so had the High Table, and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating above it. Most of the school seemed to be here, all carrying wands, and looking excited.

"Who do you think will be teaching us?" Henri asked.

"Dunno," I replied.

"Maybe it's Lily," Rhiannon said. I looked at her. "What? She _is_ the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"Looks like you're right, Rhiannon," Ginny said, pointing at one end of the stage. Mum was walking onto the stage, wearing robes of black, followed by Snape, wearing his usual black.

Mum raised her arm for silence, and called, "Can you all see me? Can you all hear me? Good!

"Professor Dumbledore suggested that we should start a Duelling Club, just in case you ever need to defend yourselves. I volunteered to teach it, as I am the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.

"I am sure you all know my assistant, Professor Snape, who has volunteered to help with a short demonstration before we begin."

Mum and Snape turned to face each other, and bowed. They then raised their wands like swords in front of them.

"We are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Mum informed us. "On the count of three, we'll cast our first spells. Neither of us is aiming to kill, of course."

"One– two– three–"

Both swung their wands up and over their shoulders.

"_Expelliarmus_!" cried Snape. There was a dazzling flash of scarlet, but it never hit Mum. A shield seemed to have appeared in front of her.

"Professor Snape used a Disarming Charm, as my first years will know. I, however, used a Shield Charm, but I cast it non-verbally," Mum explained. "Which the sixth and seventh years should know how to do. But enough demonstrating, you can try duelling yourselves, Professor Snape and I will come amongst you and divide you into pairs."

Mum reached us before Snape did, she paired me with Rhiannon, and Henri and Ginny together. I glanced over to where Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood, Snape had reached them, and had paired Ron with Seamus Finnigan, Hermione with a Slytherin named Millicent Bulstrode, and Harry with Malfoy.

"Face your partners," Mum called, she was back on the stage, "and bow!"

Rhiannon and I faced each other and bowed.

"Wands at the ready!" Mum shouted. "When I count to three, you will cast your first spells. No transfiguration, and no Unforgivable Curses. One, two, three!"

"_Tarantallegra_!" I shouted.

"_Petrificus Totalus_!" Rhiannon shouted. I ducked. It hit Guinevere. "Oops, sorry, Guinevere!"

"Lizzie, why did you have to use _this _spell?" Rhiannon asked as her feet continued to dance.

"I dunno, first spell that popped into my head," I said shrugging. "What happened to those two?" I asked, pointing at Ginny and Henri, who were on the floor, laughing.

"From the looks of it, I have to say they hit each other with the Tickling Charm at the same time," Rhiannon said. "Don't you know how to stop it?"

"I can't remember?"

"What d'you mean you can't remember?!"

"Umm… _finite incantatem_?" I said pointing my wand at her feet.

"I think Harry's having the same problem," Rhiannon said, pointing. Sure enough, Harry's legs were dancing uncontrollably.

"_Finite Incantatem_!" Mum yelled from the stage. Harry's feet stopped moving, and Ginny and Henri stopped laughing. "Now that you have had the time to experiment, I think it is time to teach you how to block the spells. How about a volunteer pair? Neville, Justin, how about you?"

"Bad idea, Professor Ev– Potter," Snape said, gliding over like a large bat.

"Did he almost say _Evans_?" Rhiannon asked, staring at me. I nodded.

"Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital in a matchbox." Neville's face went pink. Mum mouthed, 'I know you can do it.' "How about Malfoy and Potter?"

Mum quickly glanced at Harry. "Excellent idea, Professor Snape. The two of you can come up here," Mum said. The crowd parted to let them through, and onto the stage.

"This should be good, shouldn't it?" Rhiannon asked.

"Yeah."

We edged closer to the stage, with Ginny and Henri following. Mum murmured something to Harry, he nodded, and Mum backed away.

"One, two, three, go!"

Malfoy raised his wand quickly, and bellowed, "_Serpensortia_!"

The end of his wand exploded as a long, black snake shot out of it, fell between Malfoy and Harry, and raised itself, ready to strike. There were screams as most of the crowd moved backwards, away from the stage. The snake slithered straight towards Justin Finch-Fletchley, and it raised itself again, fangs exposed, prepared to strike.

Harry suddenly started walking towards the snake, and shouted. But instead of English words, it came out as hissing. It was Parseltongue. The snake backed off from Justin. Harry looked up at Justin, grinning.

"What do you think you're playing at?" Justin shouted, and before Harry could say anything, Justin had turned, and stormed out of the Hall.

Snape stepped forward, waved his wand, and the snake disappeared in a small puff of black smoke. Ron came up behind Harry and tugged at his robes. They left the Hall, but as they went through the doors, people drew away.

Henri stared at Rhiannon, Ginny, and me, looking utterly bewildered. "_What_ was _that_ all about?"

"Not here, we'll explain somewhere else," I told her. We quickly exited the Hall, and walked into an empty classroom.

"So?"

"Apparently, Harry's a Parselmouth," I said.

"A _what_?"

"A Parselmouth, a person who can talk to snakes," Rhiannon explained. "That was Parseltongue that Harry was speaking. You do remember what Parseltongue is, right?"

"Yeah, snake language," Henri said. "But what about Lizzie, can't she speak Parseltongue?"

I shook my head. "No, it's an inherited trait. My dad couldn't speak it, and my mum's Muggle-born. So, the question is, where did Harry learn it?"

"Maybe it skips a few generations?"

Again, I shook my head. "No, it's one of those things where everyone gets it, no choice."

"So, everyone's going to think Harry's the Heir of Slytherin, now, aren't they?" Henri asked.

"Most likely," I answered, opening the classroom door, so we could head back to Gryffindor Tower before curfew.

* * *

_Lizzie's POV_

_Next Day_

"Hey, Potter, wait up!" I heard Brennan call as we left Transfiguration. I stopped and spun around.

"_What_?" I snapped venomously. He seemed taken back by my tone. Well, what can I say? The Ravenclaws spent the majority of the lesson asking who my brother was planning to attack next. Unfortunately for me, McGonagall was right behind me when my temper snapped, and now I have detention because I hit Emilia White with the full Body-Bind Curse.

"I thought you said your brother couldn't speak Parseltongue," he said.

"I didn't know 'til last night," I snapped. "And if you don't want me to do what I did to Emilia to you, I'd leave me alone."

"You wouldn't dare," he said, but he stepped back. "You'll get another detention."

"Watch me," I growled, drawing my wand. He glanced at me fearfully, and turned to his friends.

"Come on, let's go."

"What, scared of a girl?" I called to him, and started towards Charms.

"Elizabeth!" I turned around again. It was Luna Lovegood, the _only_ Ravenclaw who did not ask me about Harry being the Heir of Slytherin.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry about the way my housemates have been treating you, and I believe you about your brother not attacking the Muggle-borns," she said.

"Um… thanks, Luna, but I had better get going, I have to go to Charms," I said.

"Oh, all right, I have to head to Potions, anyway," she said, she turned and went the other way, while I turned to face my friends once more.

"C'mon, let's go to Charms," I said. My friends said nothing as we headed to class.

Class was really boring, Professor Flitwick had us do written work, even though it was the second last lesson before Christmas. Halfway through, Ginny excused herself to use the washroom. Ten minutes later, we heard Peeves shouting.

"ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!"

Rhiannon, Henri, and I were the closest to the door bolted out of it, Flitwick close behind, and our classmates. Other doors were banging open, I caught a glimpse of Harry before he was plastered to the wall by students, but I gaped at what was in the middle of the hallway.

Justin Finch-Fletchley was on the floor with a look of utmost shock on his face, and Nearly Headless Nick, but he no longer was transparent and pearly-white, now, he was black, smoky, and opaque. He was floating half a foot off the floor, his head half off, and he wore an expression of shock identical to Justin's.

In the confusion, people kept standing in Nearly Headless Nick, and Justin was nearly stood on.

The teachers shouted for quiet. Professor McGonagall came running, followed by her own class, one of whom had black and white hair. She set off a loud bang with her wand, which restored silence, and ordered everyone back into class, which everyone did. Well, everyone except my friends and I.

Just as everyone else had returned to class, a second year Hufflepuff turned up, panting.

"_Caught in the act_!" he yelled, his face white, pointing his finger at Harry dramatically.

"That will do, Macmillan!" Professor McGonagall said sharply.

Peeves was floating overhead, grinning wickedly, surveying the scene; Peeves loved chaos. As the teachers examined Nearly Headless Nick and Justin, Peeves broke into song:

"_Oh Potter, you rotter, oh what have you done,_

_You're killing off students, you think it's good fun_–"

"That's enough, Peeves!" Professor McGonagall barked. Peeves zoomed away backwards, sticking his tongue out at Harry.

Justin was carried up to the hospital wing by Professor Flitwick and Professor Sinistra, but nobody seemed to know what to do for Nick. In the end, Professor McGonagall conjured a large fan out of thin air, and handed it to Macmillan with instructions to waft Nearly Headless Nick up the stairs. He did this, which left Harry and McGonagall alone, and us trying to inconspicuously slip into class. It didn't work.

"Miss Potter, Miss Black, and Miss Hawthorne, what are you still doing out here?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"Just getting the facts before they're garbled through gossip and rumours," I said. Professor McGonagall nodded.

"Well, you had better get back, even though there are only ten minutes of the lesson left," she said. We nodded, and I opened the door again. We slipped in, unnoticed by our classmates. Ginny hadn't returned yet.

* * *

_Later that night_

_In the girls' second year dormitory_

"Where were you, Ginny? When you left halfway through Charms?" I asked, wanting to finish this conversation before Guinevere and Ailsa came up.

"You heard me ask Flitwick, I went to the loo," Ginny said.

"Ginny, you were gone the rest of the class, we didn't see you again until Potions!" I pointed out.

"I– I didn't feel too good," she said. Now that I looked, she did look a bit peaky.

"You don't look so good, Ginny. D'you wanna go see Madam Pomfrey for something?" Rhiannon asked.

"It's all right, I'm fine," she protested.

"Ginny, is there anything you want to tell us? We're here for you, you know," Henri said gently.

"I know."

At that moment, Ailsa and Guinevere came in. I sat on my bed, and began rummaging around for my jimjams.

"So, Lizzie, what happened to Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick?" Guinevere asked.

"Nothing, Gwen, Flitwick and Sinistra brought Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing, and I'm not exactly sure where Nearly Headless Nick ended up. Now, if you'll excuse me I'm going to bed," I replied, before closing my curtains. I laid down, thinking about past events.

Mum, Henri, and Hermione were in more danger than ever, but at the moment I was more concerned about Ginny. She was always disappearing right before the attacks happened, and didn't return for awhile afterwards. She was pale all the time, and wasn't herself all the time, and sometimes, she couldn't remember what she had been doing prior to us finding her. Hmm… this is getting suspicious, but of course no one'll realise but us. I hate myself for saying this, but I think some research needs to be done.

Because Ginny couldn't possibly be–?

No, she couldn't.

Could she?

* * *

**Author's Note: Sorry, another short chapter. Don't hurt me. **_**cringes in fear**_** The next chapter is not short. Four more chapters are left, then we are done with COS, and onto GOF, which I'm **_**really **_**looking forward to writing. So, Lizzie is starting to get slightly suspicious of Ginny and her diary. Think of Lizzie as James, because he goofed off a lot, but he was smart. That's what Lizzie's like, but she **_**is**_** a bit like Lily, she just doesn't know it yet. Just out of curiosity, how're you finding the preview thing? Good, or bad? If you don't like it I can stop, but I find it really keeps me on track. On Wednesday, I'm leaving for Chicago, and won't return until 10:45 pm (if we're lucky) Saturday. Unless I can sneak my laptop pass my mother, the chapter after next'll take longer, (I'm really slow at copying print onto a computer). If I was to write 3 fics (one for Lizzie, Rhiannon, and Henri), that's kinda like a Pensieve, one chapter for each year of their lives (sometimes two or three depending), following their lives before, during, and after Hogwarts, (I won't write a chapter if I write the same thing here, e.g. James's murder), would anyone be interested in reading it? 'Cause if no is, I'm not gonna bother, but yeah, just thought I'd toss the idea out there.**

**Preview: Ch. 11: Happiness, Grief, Repulsion**

"Oh, _don't_," she wailed every time Fred asked Harry loudly who he was planning to attack, next, or George pretended to fend Harry off with a clove of garlic.

I prodded Henri awake.

"It's Christmas, in case you've forgotten," I said, now prodding Ginny awake. "Gin, get up, it's Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas, Lizzie."

"Happy Christmas, Ginny." I walked over to Rhiannon's bed, and pulled her curtains open. "Open the curtains, please, Henri."

"Rhiannon Melody Black, get your lazy arse out of bed so we can open the presents," I said sternly.

"Presents?"

"Yes, Rhee, presents, it's Christmas, after all."

"Merry Christmas to you all!"

"I've actually got presents. I mean, I've actually received presents.

"Ginny, I don't like that smile," Henri said, turning to Ginny.

"Oi! Rhiannon!"

"A diary, why?"

"Yeah, same here," Henri called.

The charm was the Hogwarts crest. I opened my present from Henri.

"You guys go ahead, I just need to ask Professor Potter something," Henri said, at the end of Defence Against the Dark Arts. Mum had promised to write a note for Professor Binns, should she be late for class.

Fifteen minutes into class, Ginny showed up, but not Henri. We followed McGonagall out of the classroom.

"Professor, what's going on?"

"There's been an attack, another double attack," she said. My heart stopped.

_I opened the door to our Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, I froze._

"_Sweet Merlin, what was Dumbledore _thinking_?" _

_Rhiannon and I chose seats at the back, Ginny followed. _

_"Let me introduce you to your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher." _

The Great Hall looks atrocious. I look at Rhiannon, disgusted. .

"Happy Valentine's Day!" shouted.

"Henri's lucky, she doesn't have to endure this torture," Rhiannon grumbled.

I glared at Malfoy, and made sure Harry wasn't listening before I spoke. Malfoy looked shocked.


	11. Chapter 11: Happiness, Grief & Repulsion

**Disclaimer: I'm not clever enough to come up with the genius world of Harry Potter, just clever enough to add my own characters.****Chapter Eleven**

* * *

**Happiness, Grief, and Repulsion**

_Lizzie's POV_

_December 25__th__, 1992_

_Girls' second year dormitory_

After the double attack on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, people immediately began booking seats on the Hogwarts Express. The attack on Nearly Headless Nick had shaken people, what could possibly do that to a ghost, they had asked each other.

Poor Harry. Everywhere he went people dodged around him as though he'd sprout fangs or spit poison, and people were muttering, pointing, and hissing as he passed.

Of course, Rhiannon and I found this quite funny, so did Fred and George. They went out of their way to march ahead of him in the corridors shouting, "Make way for the Heir of Slytherin, seriously evil wizard coming through…"

One time, they saw we were having a difficult time getting to Defence Against the Dark Arts, so they marched in front us shouting, "Make way, sister of the Heir of Slytherin needs to get to class, relative of an extremely Dark wizard passing through…" Mum just laughed, because she knew they were just joking.

But Percy didn't approve of this behaviour. Ginny didn't think it was amusing either.

"Oh, _don't_," she wailed every time Fred asked Harry loudly who he was planning to attack, next, or George pretended to fend Harry off with a clove of garlic.

But, at last, it was Christmas. I woke up first. I prodded Henri awake.

"Get up lazy bones," I said.

"Lizzie, we're on holidays," she muttered sleepily.

"It's Christmas, in case you've forgotten," I said, now prodding Ginny awake. "Gin, get up, it's Christmas!" Her eyes snapped wide open. She sat up.

"Happy Christmas, Lizzie."

"Happy Christmas, Ginny." I walked over to Rhiannon's bed, and pulled her curtains open. "Open the curtains, please, Henri."

She did, the sunlight filtered in through the windows.

"Rhee, get up."

"No."

"Rhiannon Melody Black, get your lazy arse out of bed so we can open the presents," I said sternly.

"Presents?"

"Yes, Rhee, presents, it's Christmas, after all." That did it. She sat straight up.

"What're we waiting for? Merry Christmas to you all!"

Henri was staring astonished at the foot of her bed. "I've actually got presents. I mean, I've actually received presents. I just thought I'd receive gifts from you lot, and that's it.

"Yeah, Mum knew you wouldn't receive any presents, so, she got you something. Not sure what exactly," I said.

"Yeah, and I wrote to Mum saying you didn't expect any presents," Ginny explained.

"And I told the same thing to my dad, so, if you receive a gift that says 'From, Sirius Black' and then underneath _that_ 'Picked out by Remus Lupin', that's my dad and godfather," Rhiannon said in the midst of her unwrapping.

"Do I see some Filibuster Fireworks there?" I asked her, grinning.

"You might," she answered slyly, with a smile.

"Ginny, I don't like that smile," Henri said, turning to Ginny.

"Neither do I."

"Oh, come on, it's Christmas," I said, finally turning to my pile. Mum gave me a diary. "Oi! Rhiannon! What did you get from Mum?"

"A diary, why?"

"Yeah, same here," Henri called.

"I got one too," I said, turning back to my pile. From Sirius, I received several boxes of Filibuster Fireworks and Dungbombs, Remus gave me a book called _Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland_, I received a vast majority of sweets from Harry, Ginny had given me a few bags of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, from Rhiannon, I received a pack of Exploding Snap cards (my last deck sort of incinerated when Rhiannon added her deck to mine), a new wizard's chess set (again, it's Rhiannon's fault I don't have one, my old set was involved with the Exploding Snap incident), and the latest charm for my charm bracelet. The charm was the Hogwarts crest. It was my eleventh charm. I opened my present from Henri. It was a simple silver chain, with the letter 'E' as the pendant. I pulled it out of the box.

"Wow. Thanks, Henri," I said as I put it on. I looked at Rhiannon. She held the same thing, except hers was an 'R'. I looked at Ginny. She was holding hers, and staring at it in awe.

"Yeah. Thanks, Henri," Rhiannon and Ginny said.

"Glad you like them."

I tossed Rhiannon her present.

"Merry Christmas, Rhee."

"Merry Christmas, Lizzie."

I tossed Henri hers. "Merry Christmas, Henri." She opened it. It was a scrapbook. "Cool, Lizzie. Thanks."

I noticed I had one present left. It was lumpy. I picked it up.

"Uh oh. I know who that's from. It's from my mum. Probably a Weasley jumper," Ginny said. I noticed Henri and Rhiannon were holding the same thing. I unwrapped mine. It was emerald green and there was an 'L' on it. Rhiannon's was purple with an 'R', and Henri's was royal blue with an 'H'. We had also received some fudge. I tried some. It was good.

Later, we headed down to the Great Hall for Christmas dinner. Henri stared at it in amazement. There were a dozen frost-covered Christmas trees, thick ribbons of holly and mistletoe criss-crossed the ceiling, and enchanted snow, warm and dry, fell from the ceiling. Mum sat with us at the Gryffindor table for dinner. Dumbledore led us in a few of his favourite carols, Hagrid roaring louder and louder with every goblet of eggnog he drank. Percy, who hadn't realised that Fred had bewitched his Prefect badge so that it now read 'Pinhead', kept asking us what we were all laughing at.

Hermione ushered Harry and Ron out of the Hall after their third helping of Christmas pudding. I offered Henri a wizard cracker, and she pulled. She jumped as the cracker went off like a cannon, and engulfed us in smoke. She received a wizard's chess set, and a pointed wizard's hat. After her shock wore off, she laughed with the rest of us.

* * *

_Later_

_From the diary of_

_Henrietta Hawthorne_

_December 25__th__, 1992_

**_I've never had a diary before. It was more Jo's thing. I'm more of a tomboy. But, I guess there's a first for every thing. I'm not sure what I should talk about. Maybe a little about my life._**

_**When I was told I'm a witch, I knew my life with my parents was over. They're strict Catholics. We couldn't even read books or go see movies that fell under fantasy or supernatural. That meant no Grimms' fairy tales, no Greek mythology, nothing. Our literature had to be approved by our parents. I ended up reading **_**Pride and Prejudice**_** when I was ten.**_

_**When Professor McGonagall arrived, and told me I'm a witch, that was the best and worst day of my life. To know I wasn't alone, that there were other kids like me. But then, my parents threw McGonagall out. And then, Professor Dumbledore arrived. For the first time in my life, I was free.**_

_**At my Muggle school, I had no friends. I was even alienated among the alienated. My parents seemed pleased about that. Jo and Danny were my only friends. But on the Hogwarts Express, I met my three best friends: Elizabeth Potter, Rhiannon Black, and Ginny Weasley.**_

_**I'm worried about Ginny, but I think we all are. Sometimes she can't remember what's she's been doing for hours at a time, and she's looking a bit peaky. She's also having nightmares, and Ron and Percy won't leave her alone.**_

_**And these attacks, I can tell Lizzie and Rhiannon are more worried than they let on. I'm a Muggle-born, and those people have been attacked. One of our classmates has already been attacked. I think Harry knows more than he lets on, but he's told us this happened before, fifty years ago.**_

_**I know this is a bit off topic, but I don't know what I'm going to do in the summer. My parents have disowned me, I'm not allowed back in that house until the day they die, which won't be for a very long time. With these attacks, I can hardly expect Dumbledore to let me stay here.**_

_**I probably should get to bed, it's been a long and fun day. I still can't believe I received presents. **_

_**Night.**_

* * *

_From the diary of _

_Rhiannon Black _

_December 25th, 1992_

_**I can't believe Lily gave me a diary of all things for Christmas. I don't write in diaries. This is my first and probably last time. I've no idea what to talk about. My extremely weird life? **_

_**When I was two, my mother was murdered by my father's cousin, and I witnessed it. From what I've been told, this was the only time my dad cried. He Apparated himself and I to Lily and James's cottage in Godric's Hollow. I can vaguely remember Harry and Lizzie not understanding why I wouldn't stop crying. Worst day of my life. Almost four months later, Voldemort murdered James right in front of Harry. **_

_**So, as a result I was brought up by my dad, Lily, and Remus. Harry, Lizzie, Sarah, and Emma are the closest I'll ever have to siblings, but that's okay, they're my family. Not the Blacks, except for a few. **_

_**People ask if I miss my mum, and I say, 'Yes, I do.' Then there's insensitive jerks, who say, 'How can you miss her? You were two. You barely knew her.' Once, a man said, 'Shame you weren't killed too, it must pain your father to look at you, and not see your mother. If you had both died, it would've been less painful.' Dad punched him on the nose, he broke it, and gave him two black eyes. I was eight. Harry and Lizzie had to hold me back.**_

_**I wanted to come to Hogwarts, but I wasn't sure how Dad would handle having the house alone. Then, when McGonagall came round asking us who would like to stay, and who was going home, I was torn between wanting to stay with my friends or going home to stay with Dad. But here I am. **_

_**I like it here, it's awesome, except now, because the corridors are really draughty, and the dungeons are really cold.**_

_**There's been attacks… attacks on Muggle-borns. I'm worried Lily might be attacked, or Henri. There have been three attacks, so far. Almost everyone in Hogwarts left for the holidays.**_

_**I dunno what else to write. **_

_**G'night, I guess.**_

* * *

_Lizzie's POV_

_Girls' dormitory_

I had pulled out the diary Mum gave me. I decided I could at least write one thing in here. I noticed Rhiannon and Henri had done the same thing. Here goes nothing.

_From the diary of _

_Lizzie Potter_

_December 25__th__, 1992_

_**I've no idea what to write. What is there to write? I know.**_

_**My name is Elizabeth Potter, sister of Harry Potter. My name is as famous as Harry's, it's a part of the story. I was there. **_

_**'Course, Harry's part was much braver than mine, but the fact that I stayed put in my room, and didn't say a word amazes people.**_

_**People always overlook other things about me. Yes, I'm brave, loyal, and smart, but they always overlook that I'm a practical jokester, and I love Quidditch, or if they know, they overlook the fact that I play Quidditch.**_

_**I like to play Seeker, but that's usually Harry's position, I usually end up playing Chaser. I'm a decent Chaser, but it's not as fun as Seeker.**_

_**I love it here. I've always wanted come. Mum considered homeschooling us, but in the end, decided we'd be better coming here.**_

_**But then, Dobby came and visited Harry and I, saying 'terrible things would happen'. And terrible things are. **_

_**Muggle-borns are being attacked. Two already, a ghost, and Filch's cat. Mum or Henri could be next. Or Hermione. But it'll never be a Slytherin.**_

_**I suppose I should explain about mine and Rhiannon's charm bracelets. Ever since we were six years old, we've been giving a charm to each other every Christmas (except when we were six, it was six), so now we each have eleven. I have a broomstick, an 'E', a wand, a book (Rhiannon said it represented I'm smart), a dog (means I'm loyal), a lily flower, a Golden Snitch, my birthstone, the Union Jack, a scroll engraved with 'Family & Friends', and of course, the Hogwarts crest. I gave Rhiannon the Gryffindor crest. **_

_**Oddly enough, I didn't envision my first year of Hogwarts like this, especially with Mum teaching us Defence Against the Dark Arts. **_

_**Oh, well.**_

_**Goodnight.**_

I closed my diary, as my friends did, and crawled into bed for a much needed sleep.

* * *

_Lizzie's POV_

_January 20__th__, 1993_

_Exactly one week after Henri's twelfth birthday_

_History of Magic class_

"You guys go ahead, I just need to ask Professor Potter something," Henri said, at the end of Defence Against the Dark Arts. We had History of Magic next. Mum had promised to write a note for Professor Binns, should she be late for class.

Fifteen minutes into class, Ginny showed up, but not Henri. A half hour passed and McGonagall came to into the class.

"Excuse me, Professor Binns, excuse me, but I need to speak to Miss Potter, Miss Black, and Miss Weasley," she said. "And bring your books."

We did as we were told. We followed McGonagall out of the classroom.

"Now, this may come as a shock, I must warn you," she said, as walked down the corridor.

"Professor, where are we going?" I asked. She ignored me. We followed her, we stopped outside of the Charms classroom. McGonagall went in, and told us to wait. When she came back out, Harry was following her. He looked quizzically at me, but I shrugged my shoulders. We continued to follow McGonagall through the corridors. I noticed she had led us to the hospital wing.

"Professor, what's going on?" I asked.

"There's been an attack, another double attack," she said, in a surprisingly gentle voice.. She led us to the beds farthest from the door. My heart stopped.

"Mum. Henri."

I couldn't believe it, I didn't want to believe it. Rhiannon pulled me into a hug.

"It's not fair, Rhee, it's just not fair," I said angrily.

"I know, Liz, I know," she answered.

"What about Sarah and Emmy?" Harry asked.

"Well, I'm to bring you, your sister, and Miss Black to Professor Dumbledore's office," McGonagall said. "Miss Weasley, you're excused from your next class, if you do not wish to attend."

Ginny nodded. We followed Professor McGonagall to Professor Dumbledore's office. She stopped in front of a large and extremely ugly stone gargoyle.

"Sherbet lemon."

The gargoyle sprang to life, and hopped aside as the wall behind it split into two. Behind the wall was a spiral staircase, which was moving efficiently upwards. Professor McGonagall stepped on, and beckoned for us to follow suit. We rose steadily upwards, in circles, higher and higher, until finally, we could see a door ahead, with a knocker in the shape of a griffin.

We stepped off the stone staircase. McGonagall knocked on the door.

"Enter," Dumbledore said. McGonagall opened the door. We showed us inside, and left closing the door behind her. I stared at the size of Dumbledore's office. I glanced around until I saw Sirius and Remus, with Sarah and Emmy beside them.

"Ah, Harry, Elizabeth, and Rhiannon," Dumbledore greeted. "Please take a seat."

He waved his wand, and three extra chairs landing with a thump next to Sirius. Rhiannon sat in the one closest to him, I sat next to her, and Harry sat next to me.

"As you are no doubt aware of, Lily and Miss Hawthorne have been attacked. We now need a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, and there's now the question on what happens to Sarah and Emma-Lynn."

"They can stay, can't they?" I asked. "I mean, they can still do what they've been doing during the day when Mum was teaching, and for dinner, they can eat at the Gryffindor table, and at night, they can come into the second year girls' dormitory with Rhiannon and me?"

Everyone was looking at me strangely. "What? Harry, Rhiannon, and I can look after them."

"I'm ten! I can look after myself!" Sarah said indignantly.

"I'm eight!"

"So?"

"We're old enough to look after ourselves," Sarah said.

"Fine. We'll only tell you when to go to bed," I said.

"Well, that seems suitable, unless you two have any objections?" Dumbledore inquired, looking at Remus and Sirius.

"I have no objections, do you Sirius?"

"None."

"That's settled then, I'll send for their things to be brought up later. Now, I think you should all head down to the hospital wing, even if there's no _technical _point in talking to a Petrified person."

* * *

_Lizzie's POV_

_February 14__th__, 1993_

I can't _believe_ it! I _don't _want to believe it! _What _was Dumbledore _thinking_? Why? _WHY_!?

Our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is none other than the git known as Gilderoy Lockhart.

I honestly think the world has something against me. Really, I do.

But, still, _**WHY**_?!

Here's what happened when we first discovered it.

Last month:

_I opened the door to our Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, I froze._

_"Bloody hell," I said the moment I had the door open._

_"What?" Rhiannon asked, she stood behind me and her jawed dropped. "Sweet Merlin, what was Dumbledore _thinking_?" _

_"He wasn't," I said. Finally, he looked up from his desk._

_"Hello, ladies, if you could just take a seat."_

_Rhiannon and I chose seats at the back, Ginny followed. _

_When the rest of the had filed in, he spoke._

_"Let me introduce you to your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher." My hopes rose, and the immediately fell again. " Me. Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, third class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and five times winner of _Witch Weekly_'s_ _Most-Charming-Smile Award– but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon banshee by smiling at her."_

_If there had been no one there but my friends and I, I'd've been banging my head on my desk about now. _

If I thought that was bad, it's nothing– _nothing_, compared to today. The Great Hall looks atrocious. The walls are littered with large, lurid pink flowers. Worse still, heart-shaped confetti fell from the ceiling. I look at Rhiannon, disgusted. Simultaneously, we looked at the High Table. Lockhart, who wore lurid pink robes to match, waved for silence. The other teachers were looking stony-faced.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted. "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards. Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all– and it doesn't end here!"

Lockhart clapped his hands, and through the doors to the Entrance Hall, tramped a dozen surly-looking dwarves. They weren't just plain old dwarves, oh no, no, Lockhart had taken it a step further. The dwarves all wore golden wings and carried harps.

"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" Lockhart beamed. "They will be roving around the school today delivering your Valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"

Flitwick buried his face into his hands. The look on Snape's face suggested that the first person to ask would be fed poison.

"Why? Why? _Why? WHYYYYYYY_?!" I moaned as Rhiannon and I left the Great Hall. Ginny had said she needed to ask Professor McGonagall something.

"Henri's lucky, she doesn't have to endure this torture," Rhiannon grumbled.

All day long, the dwarves kept storming into our classes to deliver Valentines, to the great annoyance of teachers. We were queued up for Transfiguration when a dwarf caught up with Harry.

"Oi, you! 'Arry Potter!" shouted the dwarf, elbowing people out of the way. Harry desperately tried to escape. The dwarf, however, cut his way through by kicking people's shins, and reached him before he'd gone two steps.

"I've got a musical message to deliver to 'Arry Potter in person," the dwarf said.

"_Not here_," Harry hissed, still trying to escape.

"Stay _still_!" the dwarf grunted, grabbing Harry's bag, pulling him back.

"Let me go!" Harry snarled, tugging.

With a loud ripping noise, his bag split in two. His books, wand, parchment, and quill fell to the floor as his ink bottle smashed over the lot.

Harry quickly tried to pick it up before the dwarf started singing, causing a hold-up in the corridor.

"What's going on here?" came the drawling voice of Malfoy. Harry began stuffing everything in feverishly, desperate to get away.

"What's all this commotion?" Percy said as he arrived.

Harry must've lost his head, because he tried to runaway, but the dwarf grabbed his knees, sending him crashing to the floor.

"Right," said the dwarf, sitting on Harry's ankles, "here's your singing Valentine:

"_His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad_,

_His hair is as dark as a blackboard_.

_I wish he was mine, he's really divine_,

_The hero who conquered the Dark Lord_."

I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing. I wasn't trying to be mean or anything, but the looks on Harry and Ginny's faces were just priceless.

Percy was trying to break up the crowd.

"Off you go, off you go, the bell rang five minutes ago, off to class, now," he said, shooing some other first years away. "_And_ you, Malfoy."

Malfoy bent over and picked something up. He showed it Crabbe and Goyle. It looked like a diary. _Ginny's diary_.

"Give that back," Harry said quietly.

"Wonder what Potter's written in this?" Malfoy said. The crowd fell silent. Ginny stared from the diary to Harry, looking terrified.

"Hand it over, Malfoy," Percy said sternly.

"When I've had a look," Malfoy said, waving the diary teasingly at Harry.

"As a school Prefect–" Percy began, but Harry had lost his temper.

He pulled out his wand, and shouted, "_Expelliarmus_!"

The diary shot out of Malfoy's hand and into the air. Ron, grinning, caught it.

"Harry!" Percy said loudly. "No magic in the corridors. I'll have to report this, you know!"

Malfoy looked furious, and as Ginny passed him to enter our classroom, he yelled spitefully, "I don't think Potter liked your Valentine much!"

Ginny covered her face with her hands, and ran into class. I glared at Malfoy, and made sure Harry wasn't listening before I spoke.

"Bastard," I growled, before I entered the class. Malfoy looked shocked. I immediately began writing down the Valentine. I wasn't going to let them live it down, _ever_.

**Author's Note: So, Lockhart reappears. Three more chapters to go, and then onto GOF. Review, please? I promise I'll get back to you ASAP.**


	12. Chapter 12: Sadness Accompanied Bullying

Disclaimer: You know the song, "If I Had A Million Dollars"? Well, my version would be "If I Owned Harry Potter", and the first line would be, 'If I owned Harry Potter, Fred wouldn't have died.'

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

**Sadness Accompanied by Bullying**

_Lizzie's POV_

_April 17__th__, 1993_

_Quidditch match_

Today's match is Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. Rhiannon and I were in the stands, waiting for Ginny to join us. The teams walked onto the pitch to applause. Oliver Wood took off for a warm-up flight. Madam Hooch released the Bludgers and the Snitch. The Hufflepuff team, who played in canary yellow, were in a huddle having a last minute discussion.

Harry was just mounting his broom when McGonagall came half-marching, half running across the pitch, carrying an enormous purple megaphone.

"This match has been cancelled," McGonagall called through the megaphone. Rhiannon and I groaned, and added to the boos. Wood landed, and towards McGonagall without getting off his broom. He shouted at her, but she ignored him, and continued speaking through the megaphone. "All students are to make their way back to the house common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!"

Grumbling, groaning, and complaining, we slowly made our way out of the stadium. Once back in the school, Rhiannon spoke.

"You don't think something's happened?"

"What? Another attack?" She nodded. "Well, we'll find out soon enough."

We headed up to Gryffindor Tower, and gave the password and entered the crowded common room. Twenty minutes passed before the portrait hole opened again. It was Harry and Ron, followed by McGonagall.

"In light of recent events, certain safety precautions have taken effect," McGonagall said, unrolling a scroll of parchment. "They are as followed:

"All students will return to their house common room by six o'clock in the evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities."

We listened to McGonagall in silence. She rolled up the parchment, and said in a choked voice, "I need hardly add that I have rarely been so distressed. It is likely that the school will be closed unless the culprit behind these attacks is caught. I would urge anyone who thinks they might know anything about them to come forward."

She climbed awkwardly out of the portrait hole, and talking immediately began.

"That's three Gryffindors down, not counting a Gryffindor ghost and Professor Potter, one Ravenclaw, and one Hufflepuff," Lee Jordan said, counting his fingers. "Haven't _any_ of the teachers noticed that the Slytherins are all safe? Isn't it _obvious_ all this stuff's coming from Slytherin? The _Heir_ of Slytherin, the _monster_ of Slytherin– why don't they just chuck all the Slytherins out?" he roared, to nods and scattered applause.

I had asked Harry where he went with McGonagall, and he told me Hermione and a Ravenclaw Prefect had been attacked.

So, that's six attacks on Muggle-borns. How many more before the school's closed? How many more before the culprit's attacked?

* * *

_Lizzie's POV_

_April 18__th__, 1993_

_Breakfast_

In the past, I didn't mind the Ministry. Sure, some stuff they did, didn't make any sense at all, but you know, in general, they were all right. Up until now.

Early this morning, Harry informed me that Hagrid had been arrested by the Minister for Magic, and taken to Azkaban. Something about his records being against him. Right, because Hagrid would attack my mum and Hermione.

And that's not all, oh no. Also, Lucius Malfoy came to the school last night looking for Dumbledore. Mr. Malfoy's one of the school governors. He came to the school last night with an Order of Suspension for _Dumbledore_. He had Dumbledore suspended. Things aren't looking to well for us. We'll be lucky if the next attack _doesn't_ kill. But I'm sure Mr. Malfoy had Dumbledore removed so the Heir of Slytherin could have free rein. Now the school is just emitting fear with every breath inhaled and exhaled.

* * *

**Author's Note: I know this is really, **_**really**_** short –only 656 words (excluding chapter title, and the A/N)– but the next chapter will be longer, and more interesting. Wow, two more chapters and I'm done with COS. Should I make the GOF a separate story? Titled, A Different Story, But The Same: GOF? Let me know what you think. There might one or two other chapters I hadn't planned on writing if I can't wrap the end up in one chapter. **


	13. Chapter 13: Aragog

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I'd be asking the director why he left the Quidditch World Cup out of the GOF, and why the director for the fifth movie left Quidditch out? I was looking forward to seeing Harry and George beat up Malfoy.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Aragog**

_Lizzie's POV_

_Late May, 1993_

Summer was beginning to show. But it didn't feel like summer. With Dumbledore gone, fear had spread through the school like wildfire. The entire school was worried. There was no laughter, or if there was, it sounded unnatural and stopped quickly.

In addition to the security measures McGonagall told us about in April, visitors were banned from the hospital wing.

Rhiannon and I had gone with Harry and Ron one time when they were going to visit Hermione, but Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let us in.

"We're taking no more chances," she had told us through a crack in the hospital door. "No, I'm sorry, there's every chance the attacker might come back to finish these people off…"

Lockhart was really ticking me off. While other teachers looked grim, he was positively cheery. I'd've hexed him, if I wasn't worried I might be expelled for it. One Defence Against the Dark Arts class, he looked at our desolate faces, and grinned.

"Why the long faces?" I stared at him with my mouth open, I know he's a brainless git, but a rock would be more sympathetic.

"Do you not realise, that the danger has passed?" he said slowly. "The culprit has been taken away."

"Says you," I muttered audibly.

"My dear young lady, the Minister for Magic wouldn't have arrested Hagrid if he wasn't _absolutely _sure Hagrid was guilty," Lockhart said as if he was talking to five year olds.

"Yeah, he would," I said.

"Miss Potter, I think I know a touch more about Hagrid's arrest than you do," Lockhart said in a self-satisfied tone.

I glared at him, crossed my arms, slouched in my seat, and said no more.

* * *

_Later_

The common room was very crowded these days, because from six o'clock on, we had nowhere to go. Fred and George challenged Harry and Ron to a few games of Exploding Snap, and Ginny, Rhiannon, Sarah, Emma, and I watched. I could tell Harry was losing on purpose. I knew, because that's what we did with Sarah and Emma until they got the hang of the game.

At nine, Rhiannon went to bed with Sarah and Emma. It was well past midnight when Fred, George, Ginny, and I went to bed. I started up the stairs, and waited until the dormitory door closed and bolted back down.

"Harry!" I shouted quietly before he threw the Invisibility Cloak over himself and Ron.

"What, Lizzie? Go up to bed!"

"No, I want to come."

"You can't, it might be dangerous."

"So? If it's about helping Mum, Henri, Hermione, and all the other Muggle-borns, then I want to go."

He just looked at me. "You and I both know my being here is wasting time, and I'm not leaving 'til you say I can come. I promise I won't breathe a word to another soul."

"Fine, come on."

I quickly ran over, he threw the Cloak over us, and we climbed through portrait hole. We had difficult journey, because we had to weave through teachers, ghosts, and Prefects. At last, we reached the Entrance Hall. We unlocked the doors, squeezed through them, trying to stop any creaking, and stepped into the moonlit grounds.

"'Course," Ron said abruptly, as we strode across the grounds down to Hagrid's house, "we might get to the forest and find there's nothing to follow. Those spiders might not've been going there at all. I know it looked like they were moving in that sort of general direction, but…"

His voiced trailed away hopefully.

When we reached Hagrid's house, Harry pushed the door open, and Fang went mad at the sight of us. Harry hastily fed him some treacle fudge, which glued his teeth together.

Harry left his Invisibility Cloak on the table. There would be no need for it the pitch-black Forbidden Forest.

"C'mon, Fang, we're going for a walk," Harry said, patting his leg. Fang happily bounded out of the house after us. Harry took his wand out and murmured, "_Lumos_!" A tiny light appeared at the end of it.

I mimicked Harry.

"Good thinking," Ron said. "I'd light mine too, but you know– it'd probably blow up or something…"

Harry tapped Ron on the shoulder, pointing at the grass. Two solitary spiders were scuttling away from the wandlight into the trees.

"Okay," Ron sighed. "I'm ready, let's go."

So, with Fang scurrying around us, sniffing tree roots, and leaves, we entered the Forest. With the glows of mine and Harry's wands, we followed the steady trickle of spiders moving along the path. We walked for about twenty minutes, not speaking, listening for other sounds besides breaking twigs, and rustling leaves. When the trees had become thicker than ever, so that you couldn't see the stars overhead, and mine and Harry's wands shone alone in the sea of darkness, our spider guides left the path.

Harry stopped, trying to see where the spiders had gone, but the wands weren't the best source of light. Fang's nose touched Harry's hand, and he jumped backwards, crushing Ron's foot.

"What d'you reckon?" Harry asked Ron.

"We've come this far," Ron replied.

"Lizzie?"

"You actually want _my_ opinion?" I asked. Harry nodded. "Might as well keep going, just don't stop suddenly."

So we followed the scurrying shadows of the spiders into the trees. We couldn't move too quickly now; there were tree roots and stumps in our way, barely visible in the darkness. More than once we had to stop, so that Harry and I could crouch down, and find the spiders in our wandlight.

We walked for what felt like a half an hour, our robes snagging on low-slung branches and brambles, when I tripped over a tree root.

"_Bugger_," I said. I looked behind me, my right foot caught in a tree root. I also felt pain in my right knee and both my hands. I examined my left hand, it was all right, it just landed on a rock, same with my right.

"Liz, are you okay?" Harry asked, turning around to look at me. My wand had landed a foot in front of me. Harry grabbed it, and he and Ron walked back towards me.

"Yeah, I'm fine, my knee might be scraped, though," I said. He and Ron hauled me to my feet. Harry handed me my wand. "Thanks."

I checked out my knee, there was trickle of blood slowly making it's way down my leg. We continued on our way. After awhile, we noticed the ground sloped downwards, but the trees remained as thick as ever.

Suddenly, Fang let out a great, echoing bark, making all three of us jump out of our skins.

"What?" Ron asked.

"There's something moving out there," Harry said. "Listen… Sounds like something big."

We listened. The 'something' was some distance to our right, and snapping branches as it cleared a path.

"Oh no," Ron said. "Oh no, oh no, oh–"

"Shut up," Harry said frantically. "It'll hear you."

"Hear _me_?" Ron said in an unnaturally high voice. "It's already heard Fang!"

The darkness seemed to be closing in on us, as we waited, terrified. There was a strange rumbling noise, and then silence.

"What d'you think it's doing?" Harry asked.

"Probably getting ready to pounce," Ron answered.

We waited; hardly daring to move.

"D'you think it's gone?" Harry asked in a whisper.

"Dunno–"

Suddenly, to our right, came light, so bright, that we all flung up our hands to shield our eyes. Fang yelped, and attempted to run, but got stuck in a tangle of thorns, and yelped louder.

"Hang on, that looks like–" I started to say, but was cut off by Ron.

"Harry!" Ron shouted, sounding relieved. "Harry, it's our car!"

"_What_?"

"Come on!"

Harry and I blundered after Ron towards the light, stumbling and tripping, and a moment later we had emerged into a clearing.

Mr. Weasley's stood empty, in the middle of a circle of thick trees under a roof of dense branches, its headlamps ablaze. As Ron walked towards it, it moved towards him slowly, exactly like a dog greeting its owner.

"It's been here all the time!" Ron said delightedly, walking around the car. "Look at it. The Forest's turned it wild…"

The wings of the car were scratched and smeared with mud. Fang didn't seem to keen on it; he kept close to Harry.

"And we thought it was going to attack us!" Ron said, leaning against the car, and patting it. "I wonder where it had gone!"

I watched as Harry looked around for the spiders, but they had scuttled away from the light. My attention was focused on something else. I could see eight massive legs, and pincers.

"We've lost the trail," I heard Harry say. "C'mon, let's go find them."

I saw Harry get snatched by the thing, then Ron, then Fang, followed by myself. We were swept into the darkness.

As I was right-side-up, I could see the creatures eyes, there were eight. Then these were, what is it? Acro… Acroment… no, that's not it… Acromantia… nope, that's not right… what was it? I remember it sounded like tarantula…

"Acromantula!" I whispered.

I didn't know how long we were in the Acromantula's clutches; I only knew that the darkness lifted enough for me to see. I looked down, the ground was swarming with spiders. I looked up again, we were in a hollow, a hollow which had been cleared of trees, so that the stars shone ever so brightly on the worst I have ever laid eyes on.

Spiders. Not tiny, normal-sized spiders, no, these spiders were huge. The Acromantula that were carrying us made their way down a steep hill, towards a misty domed web in the very centre of the hollow, while the others closed in all around us, clicking their pincers excitedly at the sight of us.

I saw the Acromantula holding Harry release him, followed by Ron and Fang, then me. I landed on all fours. I got to my feet. Fang wasn't howling anymore, but cowering on the spot. Ron's mouth was stretched wide open in a silent scream, and his eyes were popping.

"Aragog!" the Acromantula that had held Harry called, clicking his pincers after. "Aragog!"

From the middle of the web, a spider the size of a small elephant emerged, very slowly. There was grey in the black of his body and legs. Each of his eyes was milky white. He was blind.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Men," clicked the spider that had caught Harry.

"Is it Hagrid?" Aragog asked, moving closer, his eight eyes wandering vaguely.

"Strangers," the Acromantula that had brought Ron said.

"Kill them," Aragog said. "I was sleeping…"

"We're friends of Hagrid's," Harry and I shouted.

Aragog paused.

"Hagrid has never sent men into our hollow before," Aragog said slowly.

"Hagrid's in trouble," I said. "That's why we've come."

"In trouble?" Aragog inquired. "But why has he sent you?"

"They think, up at the school, that Hagrid's been setting a– a– something on students. They've taken him to Azkaban."

Aragog clicked his pincers furiously, the sound echoing around the hollow, except it sounded like applause.

"But that was years ago," Aragog said fretfully. "Years and years ago. I remember it well. That's why they made him leave the school. They believed that _I _was the monster that dwells in what they call the Chamber of Secrets. They thought that Hagrid had opened the Chamber and set me free."

"And you… you didn't come from the Chamber of Secrets?" Harry asked.

"I!" Aragog clicked angrily. "I was not born in the castle. I come from a distant land. A traveller gave me to Hagrid when I was an egg. Hagrid was only a boy, but he cared for me, hidden in a cupboard in the castle, feeding me on scraps from the table. Hagrid is my good friend, and a good man. When I was discovered, and blamed for the death of a girl, he protected me. I have lived here in the Forest ever since, where Hagrid still visits me. He even found me a wife, Mosag, and you see how our family has grown, all through Hagrid's goodness…"

"You've never attacked anyone?" I asked.

"Never," Aragog said. "It would have been my instinct, but from respect of Hagrid, I never harmed a human. The body of the girl who was killed was discovered in a bathroom. I never saw any part of the castle, but the cupboard in which I grew up. Our kind like the dark and quiet…"

In a bathroom? He couldn't possibly mean–?

"But then… Do you know what _did_ kill that girl?" Harry asked. "Because whatever it is, it's back and attacking people again–"

The rest of Harry's words were drowned by angry clicking, and rustling of many long legs shifting angrily.

"The thing that lives in the castle," Aragog said, "is an ancient creature we spiders fear above all others. Well do I remember how I pleaded with Hagrid to let me go, when I sensed the beast moving about the school."

"What is it?" Harry asked urgently.

More clicking, more rustling, the spiders seemed to be closing in.

"We do not speak of it!" Aragog said fiercely. "We do not name it! I never even told Hagrid the name of that dread creature, though he asked me, many times."

Harry didn't press subject, not with the spiders closing in. Aragog seemed to be tired of talking; he was moving slowly back into his domed web. His fellow spiders, however, inched slowly closer to us.

"We'll just go, then," Harry called desperately.

"Go?" Aragog said slowly. "I think not…"

"But– but–"

"My sons and daughters do not harm Hagrid, on my command. But I cannot deny them fresh meat, when it wanders so willingly into our midst. Goodbye, friend of Hagrid."

Harry and I spun around. Feet away, was a solid wall of spiders. Harry and I reached for our wands, but I knew it was no good.

"Scared, Lizzie?"

"I wasn't, until now."

As Harry tried to stand, ready to die fighting, a loud, long note sounded, and a beam of light lit up the hollow.

Mr. Weasley's car was thundering down the hill, headlamps glaring, its horn screeching, knocking spiders aside. Many were knocked onto their backs, endless legs waving in the air. The car screeched to halt in front of us, and the doors flew open.

"Get Fang!" Harry yelled, diving into the front seat. I dove into the back. Ron tossed Fang into the back. The doors slammed shut. The engine roared, and we were off, hitting more spiders. We sped up the slope, out of the hollow, and soon we were crashing through the Forest, branches whipping the windows as the car cleverly wound its way through the widest gaps, following a path it obviously knew. Ron's mouth was still open in the silent scream, but his eyes weren't popping anymore.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked him; he didn't answer.

"Harry, that girl that was found in the bathroom? What if she never left? What if she's still there?" I asked.

"You don't mean _Moaning Myrtle_?"

After ten bumpy minutes, the trees thinned, and I could see patches of the sky again.

The car stopped so suddenly that I slammed into the front seat. We reached the edge of the Forest.

"You okay?"

"Fine."

Fang banged himself against the window in his anxiety, and when Harry opened the door, Fang shot off through the trees to Hagrid's house, with his tail between his legs. I got out too, followed by Harry. After a minute or so, Ron seemed to regain use of his limbs, and followed suit. Harry gave the car a grateful pat, as it reversed back into the Forest, and disappeared from view. Harry went inside to get the Invisibility Cloak, and Ron threw up in the pumpkin patch.

"Follow the spiders," Ron said weakly when Harry appeared. "I'll never forgive Hagrid. We're lucky to be alive."

"I bet he thought Aragog wouldn't hurt friends of his," Harry said.

"That's exactly Hagrid's problem!" Ron said, hitting the wall of the cabin. "He always thinks monsters aren't as bad as they're made out, and look where it's got him! A cell in Azkaban!" He was shivering uncontrollably. "What was the point of sending us in there? What have we found out, I'd like to know?"

"That Hagrid never opened the Chamber of Secrets," Harry said, throwing the Cloak over Ron and I, prodding Ron to make him walk. "He was innocent."

Ron gave a loud snort, apparently hatching Aragog wasn't his idea of innocent.

As we drew closer to the castle, Harry made sure our feet were hidden, then pushed the front doors opened. We walked carefully across the Entrance Hall, and up the staircase, holding our breaths as we walked passed corridors where watchful sentries were walking. At last, we reached the Gryffindor common room, where the fire had burned itself into ashes. We took off the Cloak, I headed up to the girls' dormitory, and they headed up to their dormitory.

I changed into my pyjamas, climbed into bed, and fell asleep instantly.

* * *

**Author's Note: This took me **_**ages**_** to write, I kept getting sidetracked. I could've finished it on the bus ride to Chicago if they hadn't put on POTC: AWE, and if the wind didn't move the bus. **


	14. Chapter 14: The Chamber of Secrets

**Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I'd be going to the Amazon next March.**

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

**The Chamber of Secrets**

_Lizzie's POV_

_Late May, 1993_

The next day, in Transfiguration, McGonagall told us that our exams would start on the first of June.

"Exams? We're still getting _exams_?" Rhiannon exclaimed.

"Of course, Miss Black," McGonagall looked at her sternly, before continuing. "The whole point of keeping the school open, was to continue running like normal. I hope you all have been revising hard."

_Revising_?! _Hard_?! My mother and one of my best friends are lying in the hospital wing, _Petrified_, and I'm supposed to have been _revising_?

"Have you been revising?" Rhiannon asked me.

"Nope. You?"

"No. What about you, Gin?"

Ginny shook her head.

"Great. Well, I know what we're doing tonight," I muttered.

* * *

_Later_

_Half past five_

"Rhee, I'm just going to the library to get a book. I'll be back before curfew." And with that, I exited Gryffindor Tower, and sprinted to the library.

I entered ten minutes later, and looked for the Magical Creatures section. Earlier, I had been flipping through _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_, and I had landed on _Basilisk_. I read it, and it struck me with an idea. What if the monster was a _Basilisk_? It was a snake, which is why Harry can hear it, and the rest of us can't. But I need a more detailed description to be sure, which is why I'm here.

I pulled out a book. It was an encyclopaedia of sorts, only it contained creatures. I opened the book, and flipped to the table of contents. I read the list until my eyes found 'Basilisk'. Quickly, I flipped to the page, excited, only to discover it wasn't there. The page had been ripped out. Furious, I put the aged book back on the shelf, and headed back to Gryffindor Tower. That's when I realised something.

If the Basilisk –assuming the monster's a Basilisk– kills by looking in people's eyes, how come no one's died?

The answer was very simple.

No one had looked the Basilisk in the eye. They only ever saw its reflection.

* * *

_Lizzie's POV_

_Three Days before Exams_

_Breakfast_

"I have good news," McGonagall announced, and everyone in the Great Hall, instead of silencing, began to shout.

"Dumbledore's coming back!" several people yelled happily.

"You've caught the Heir of Slytherin!" a Ravenclaw girl squealed.

"Quidditch matches are back on!" Wood roared.

When everyone had hushed, McGonagall continued, "Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have been Petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of them may be able to tell us who, or what attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with our catching the culprit."

Rhiannon and I added to the cheers that had erupted, but both us stopped on the look on Ginny's face.

"What's the matter, Gin?" I asked.

"I have to tell you guys something," she said, looking up and down the table.

"What is it?" Rhiannon asked as we both leaned in.

"I'm the Heir of Slytherin," she whispered, mortified.

"We know," I said quietly. "We figured it out last night. But you're not related to Slytherin, it's just Riddle possessing you. Please, Ginny, do _**not **_write in that diary tonight. He might be furious."

"You're not angry?"

"Why would we be? You can't have prevented it," Rhiannon said.

"But I think you should tell your brother," I said, nodding towards Ron and Harry.

Ginny nodded, and headed over to Harry and Ron, and sat next to her brother. With a scared look on her face, she glanced up and down the table. Ron said something to her. She was rocking slightly back and forth. She spoke. Harry spoke, then Ron. Ginny opened her mouth, but it looked like no words came out. Harry leaned forward, and asked her something. Ginny drew a deep breath, and at that exact moment, Percy showed up. Ginny jumped up, and ran out of the Hall.

"Great."

Rhiannon and I left the Great Hall, and headed back to Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

_Later _

_Midmorning_

Flitwick was leading us to what used to be Defence Against the Dark Arts, until the brainless wonder began 'teaching' it, when I saw Harry and Ron heading towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"Rhee, I'm just going to the loo, cover for me?" I asked her, after poking her in the back.

"But–"

"I'm not in any danger, just don't let Ginny out of your sight until I get back, or not all actually," I said, watching Harry and Ron slowly disappeared.

She nodded. "Thanks, Rhee," I called after I sprinted towards my brother.

"Harry! Hey, Harry, _wait up_!"

He turned around and stopped.

"What're you doing? Go to class!"

"I'm supposed to be in Defence Against the Dark Arts, or as Rhiannon and I like to call it, Defend Against the Dumb Assassin."

"'Dumb _Assassin_'?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, 'cause he's boring us to death, and it was either that or Defend Against the Dumb Ass," I said, nonchalantly.

"_Elizabeth_!"

I shrugged my shoulders, and stuck my tongue out at him, "Are we going to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom or what?"

"How d'you know where we're going?"

"I'm cleverer than you."

Harry and Ron were just congratulating themselves on outwitting Lockhart, which really wasn't hard, when…

"Potter! Weasley! You too, Miss Potter!" –I had jumped behind a suit of armour– "What are you doing?"

It was McGonagall, and her mouth was the thinnest of thin lines.

"We were– we were–" Ron stammered, "we were going to– to go and see–"

"Hermione," Harry said.

"And Mum," I added, figuring we needed an excuse for me. Ron and McGonagall stared at us.

"We haven't seen them in ages, Professor," I continued, while Harry stepped on Ron's foot.

"And we thought we'd sneak into the hospital wing, you know, and tell them that the Mandrakes are nearly ready, and, er, not to worry," Harry finished for me.

McGonagall was still staring at us, and for a second, I thought she was going to explode, but when she spoke, it was in a strangely croaky voice.

"Of course," she said, and amazingly, I saw a tear glistening in her eye. "Of course, I realise this has been hardest on the friends –and in your case, family– of those who have been… I quite understand. Yes, Potter, you may visit Miss Granger, and Lily. Miss Potter, I daresay you would also like to visit Miss Hawthorne." I nodded. "I will inform Professor Binns and Professor Lockhart where you have gone. Tell Madam Pomfrey I have given my permission."

We walked away, barely believing we managed to avoid detention. As we turned the corner, I distinctly heard McGonagall blow her nose.

"That," Ron said, "was the best story you've ever come up with."

We now had no choice to go to the hospital wing, and tell Madam Pomfrey we had McGonagall's permission to visit Mum, Henri, and Hermione.

She let us in, but reluctantly.

"There's just no _point_ talking to a Petrified person," she said. She was right, neither Mum nor Henri nor Hermione had the faintest idea they had visitors, and after a few minutes seconds of gazing sadly at Mum and Henri, I slumped next to Harry.

"Wonder if she did see the attacker, though?" Ron asked, looking sadly at Hermione's face. "Because if he sneaked up on them all, no one'll ever know…"

But Harry wasn't looking at Hermione's face. He was more interested in Hermione's right hand. It lay clenched on top of her blankets, and getting closer I could see a piece of paper crumpled in her hand.

After checking Madam Pomfrey was no where near, Harry pointed this out to Ron.

"Try and get it out," he whispered, shifting his chair so Madam Pomfrey couldn't see what Harry was doing.

It wasn't easy. Hermione's hand clutched that paper so tightly, I was sure Harry was going to rip it. While Ron kept watch, and I just watched, Harry tugged and twisted the paper, and at last, after several minutes, it came free.

It was a page torn from an aged library book. Wait a minute…

"Hey! That's the page missing from the book I was trying to read last night!"

"How d'you know?"

"Just check if it's about a Basilisk."

Harry eagerly smoothed it out, and Ron leaned closer to read it too.

_Of the many fearsome beasts that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach a gigantic size, and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it._

And beneath that, a single word was written, in writing that was most likely Hermione's. _Pipes_.

"Lizzie, how did you figure out it was a Basilisk?" Harry asked.

"I was just flipping through _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_, and I landed on Basilisk, read it, and decided it was worth looking up. I must've grabbed the same book Hermione had, because when I looked up Basilisk, the page was torn out."  
"But, this is it. The monster in the Chamber is a _Basilisk_– a giant serpent! _That's _why I've been hearing that voice all over the place, and nobody else has heard it. It's because I understand Parseltongue…"

"Good job, Harry," I said.

"What, you figured that out too?"

"Mhm. Have you figured out why no one's died?"

"You figured _that _out too? When?"

"Last night, it just sort of came at me. Anyway, answer my question."

"The Basilisk kills people by looking at them. But no one's died– because no one looked it straight in the eye. Colin saw it through his camera. The Basilisk burned up all the film inside it, but Colin just got Petrified. Justin… Justin must've seen the Basilisk through Nearly Headless Nick! Nick got the full blast, but he couldn't die _again_… and Hermione and that Ravenclaw Prefect were found with a mirror next to them. Hermione had just realised the monster was a Basilisk. I bet you anything she warned the first person she met to look around corners with a mirror first! And that girl pulled out her mirror– and–"

The whole time I had been nodding my head. "And Mrs. Norris?" I prompted.

"The water…" he said slowly, "the flood from Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. I bet you Mrs. Norris only saw the reflection…"

Harry was silent for a moment, scanning the page.

"_The crowing of the rooster is fatal to it_!" he read aloud. "Hagrid's roosters were killed! The Heir of Slytherin didn't want one anywhere near the castle once the Chamber was opened! _Spiders flee before it_! It all fits!"

"But how's the Basilisk been getting around the place?" Ron asked. "A dirty great snake… Someone would've seen…"

I looked at what Hermione had written, and pointed at it.

"Pipes," I murmured. "Pipes… it's been using the plumbing."

"I've been hearing that voice inside the walls…" Harry said.

"The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets!" Ron said hoarsely. "What if it's a bathroom? What if it's in–"

"–_Moaning Myrtle's bathroom_," Harry and I said simultaneously.

"This means," Harry said, "I can't be the only Parselmouth in the school. The Heir of Slytherin's one too. That's how they've been controlling the Basilisk."

"What're we going to do?" Ron asked. "Shall we go straight to McGonagall?"

"Let's go to the staff room," Harry said, jumping up. "She'll be there in ten minutes, it's nearly break."

We ran downstairs. Not wanting to be discovered hanging around in another corridor, we went into the deserted staff room. It was a large, panelled room, full of dark, wooden chairs.

We paced, too excited to sit down.

But the bell to signal break never came.

Instead, McGonagall's magically magnified voice echoed throughout the corridors.

"_All students to return to their house dormitories at once. All teachers to the staff room. Immediately, please._"

Harry looked at Ron and me.

"Not another attack? Not now?"

"What'll we do?" Ron asked, aghast. "Go back to the dormitory?"

"No," Harry said, as glanced around. I darted to an ugly wardrobe.

"C'mon, in here, we'll be able to here what it's all about, and then tell them what we know," I said, before disappearing inside, sitting amongst the musty cloaks. Harry and Ron followed me inside.

We listened to the rumbling of hundreds of people moving about overhead, and the staff door banging open. The teachers filtered in. Some looked puzzled, while others downright terrified. Finally, McGonagall arrived.

"It has happened," she told the silent teachers. "A student has been taken by the monster. Right into the Chamber itself."

Flitwick let out a squeal. Sprout clapped her hands to her mouth. And Snape gripped the back of a chair very hard, and asked, "How can you be sure?"

"The Heir of Slytherin," McGonagall said, very white, "left another message. Right underneath the first one. _Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever_."

Flitwick burst into tears.

"Who is it?" Madam Hooch asked, who had sunk into a chair. "Which student?"

"Ginny Weasley," McGonagall said.

Ron and I slid down onto the floor of the wardrobe.

"And Rhiannon Black has been Petrified," McGonagall added. "We shall have to send all the students home tomorrow. This is the end of Hogwarts. Dumbledore always said…"

The door to the staff room banged open again. It was Lockhart, and he was _beaming_.

"So sorry –dozed off– what have I missed?"

He didn't seem to notice that his colleagues were staring at him with a look of hatred. Snape stepped forward.

"Just the man," he said. "The very man. A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your moment has come at last."

Lockhart blanched.

"That's right, Gilderoy," Sprout chipped in. "Weren't you saying just last night that you've known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?"

"I– well, I–" Lockhart spluttered.

"Yes, didn't you tell me you were sure you knew what was inside it?" Flitwick piped up.

"D-did I? I don't recall…"

"I certainly remember you saying you were sorry you hadn't had a crack at the monster before Hagrid was arrested," Snape said. "Didn't you that the whole affair had been bungled, and that you should have been given a free rein from the first?"

"I… I really never… You may have misunderstood…"

"We'll leave it to you, then, Gilderoy," McGonagall said. "Tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We'll make sure everyone's out of your way. You'll be able to tackle the monster all by yourself. A free rein at last."

Lockhart gazed desperately around him, but no one came to his rescue. His lip was trembling, and without his toothy grin, he looked weak-chinned and weedy.

"V-very well," he said. "I'll– I'll be in my office, getting– getting ready."

He left.

"Right," McGonagall said, her nostrils flared, "that's got him out from under our feet. The Heads of Houses should go inform their students what has happened. Tell them the Hogwarts Express will take them home first thing tomorrow. Will the rest of you please make sure no students have been left outside their dormitories."

The teachers left one by one.

* * *

_Later_

_In the Gryffindor common room_

Today came second on my 'Worst Day Ever' list, Dad's death being the first. Rhiannon was attacked because I asked her to keep close to Ginny. There's no other reason, she's a pure-blood.

Harry, Ron, Fred, George, Sarah, Emma, and I sat together in a corner of the common room, unable to speak. My head rested on Harry's shoulder, feeling extremely miserable, and lonely. Percy wasn't here. He had sent an owl to Mrs. Weasley, and then shut himself in his dormitory.

No afternoon had ever lasted as long as this one, nor had the Tower been so crowded, but quiet. Near sunset, Fred and George went to up bed, unable to sit there any longer. Sarah and Emma looked extremely tired, but I had no energy to usher them to bed. Ailsa and Guinevere came over.

"We'll put them to bed, if you like," Ailsa offered.

"Yeah, we were going anyway, we can't stand it anymore," Guinevere added.

"Thanks," I said. Guinevere offered her hand to Emma.

"Come on, Emmy, up you get," she said as she hauled Emma to her feet, while Ailsa did the same with Sarah. They headed up to the girls' dormitory.

"She knew something, Harry," Ron said, speaking for the first time since the wardrobe. "That's why she was taken. It wasn't some stupid thing about Percy at all. She'd found something about the Chamber of Secrets. That must be why she was–" Ron rubbed his eyes. "I mean, she was a pure-blood. There can't be any other reason."

Oh, yes, there can, but I felt I shouldn't say anything until I could get a hold of the diary, and I couldn't find it. Maybe I could write to Dumbledore and hope Artemis could find him? I had written to Sirius to tell him Rhiannon had been Petrified, but she'd be all right, because they were making the restorative tonight, and Ginny had been taken.

"Harry," Ron said, "d'you think there's any chance at all she's not –you know–"

Harry didn't answer, and neither did I. What could I say? Your sister has been possessed by the last Heir of Slytherin?

"D'you know what?" Ron asked. "I think we should go and see Lockhart. Tell him what we know. He's going to try and get into the Chamber. We can tell him where we think it is, and tell him there's a Basilisk in there."

"Ron," I began, "let me tell you now. Lockhart. Will. Not. Do. _Anything_. He's a fraud, and a brainless git, who only took the job, because it looks good to the public. That's it."

Harry and Ron both ignored me, and got up, I followed suit. The other Gryffindors were so miserable, and felt so sorry for the Weasleys, that no one stopped us as we exited the Tower.

Darkness was falling as we headed to Lockhart's office. There seemed to be a lot of activity happening inside. We could hear scraping, thumps, and hurried footsteps.

Harry knocked, and there was a sudden silence. Then the door opened the tiniest crack, and we saw one of Lockhart's eyes peering at us.

"Oh… Mr. Potter… Mr. Weasley… Miss Potter," he said, opening the door a little wider. "I'm rather busy at the moment. If you would be quick…"

"Professor, we've got some information for you," Harry said. "We think it'll help you."

"Er– well– it's not terribly–" The side of Lockhart's face we could see looked highly uncomfortable. "I mean– well– all right."

He opened the door, and we entered.

His office had been very nearly stripped. Two large trunks stood open on the floor. Robes of assorted colours had been hastily folded into one of them; books were jumbled untidily into the other. The photographs that had most likely covered his walls were crammed into boxes on his desk.

"Are you going somewhere?" Harry asked.

"Er, well, yes," Lockhart said, ripping a life-size poster of himself from the back of the door, and started to roll it up. "Urgent call… unavailable… got to go…"

"What about my sister?" Ron asked.

"Well, as to that– most unfortunate," Lockhart said as he wrenched open a drawer, and emptied its contents into a bag. "No one regrets more than I–"

"You're the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher!" Harry said. "You can't go now! Not with all the Dark stuff going on here!"

"Well, I must say… when I took job…" Lockhart muttered, now piling socks onto his robes, "nothing in the job description… didn't expect…"

"You mean you're _running away_?" Harry asked disbelievingly. "After all that stuff you did in your books?"

"Books can be misleading," Lockhart said.

"You wrote them!" Harry shouted. I stepped in.

"Harry, use that common sense of yours, which I know is there somewhere. He. Is. A. FRAUD! If you had listened to me ten minutes ago, we'd be halfway to rescuing Ginny by now. He's just been taking credit for what other people have done. Am I right?"

"Very good, Miss Potter. My books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think _I_'_d _done all those things. No one wants to read about some ugly Armenian warlock, even if he did save a village from werewolves. He'd look dreadful on the front cover. No dress sense at all. And the witch who banished the Bandon Banshee had a hare lip. I mean, come on…"

"So, Lizzie's right? You've just been taking credit for what a load of other people have done?" Harry asked incredulously. Does _anyone_ listen to me?

"Harry, Harry," Lockhart said, "it's not nearly as simple as that. There was work involved. I had to track these people down. Ask them exactly how they managed to do what they did. Then I had to put a Memory Charm on them so they wouldn't remember doing it. If there's one thing I pride myself on, it's my Memory Charms. No, it's been a lot of hard work, Harry. It's not all book-signing and publicity photos, you know. You want fame, you have to be prepared for a long hard slog."

He banged the lids of his trunks shut, and locked them.

"Let's see," he said. "I think that's everything. Yes. Only one thing left."

He pulled out his wand, and turned to us.

"Awfully sorry, boys, and girl, but I'll have to put a Memory Charm on you know. Can't have you blabbing my secrets all over the place. I'd never sell another book…"

Harry and I raised our wands at the exact same time. Lockhart had barely raised his, when Harry and I bellowed, "_Expelliarmus_!"

Lockhart was blasted backwards, tripping over his trunk. His wand flew into the air; Ron caught in, and tossed it out the window.

"Remind me to thank Mum for teaching us that," I said as Harry kicked Lockhart's trunk out of the way. Lockhart was looking up at us, weedy once more. Harry and I kept our wands pointing at him.

"What d'you want me to do?" Lockhart said. "I don't know where the Chamber of Secrets is. There's nothing I can do."

"You're in luck," I said as Harry forced Lockhart to his feet at wandpoint. "We think _we_ know where it is, _and _what's inside it."

We marched Lockhart out of his office, and down the nearest stairs, along the corridor where the messages shone, right to the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

We shoved Lockhart in first. I noted happily that he was shaking.

Moaning Myrtle was sitting on the cistern of the end toilet.

"Oh, it's you," she said, when she saw Harry. "What do you want this time?"

"To ask you how you died," Harry said.

Myrtle looked like she had never been asked such a flattering question in her life or death.

"Ooooh, it was dreadful," she said. "It happened in here. I died in this very cubicle. I remember it so well. I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. My door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must've been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a _boy_ speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then–" Myrtle swelled importantly. "I _died_."

"How?" Harry asked.

"No idea," Myrtle whispered. "I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away… And then I came back again. I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see. Oh, she was sorry she'd ever laughed at my glasses."

"Where exactly did you see the eyes?" Harry asked.

"Somewhere there," Myrtle said, vaguely pointing in front of her toilet.

The three us of hurried over, with Lockhart standing back, a look of utmost terror on his face.

It looked like an ordinary sink. We examined every inch of the sink, including the pipes. On one of the taps, I found a tiny snake etched on the side.

"Harry, this is it," I said, pointing to the snake. Harry tried to turn it.

"That tap's never worked," Myrtle said brightly.

"Harry, say something," Ron said. "Say something in Parseltongue."

"But–"

"If you set your mind to it, you can do it," I said.

Harry stared at the snake before speaking. "Open up," he said, before he looked at us.

"English," Ron and I said simultaneously.

Harry looked back at the snake. Instead of English, I heard a strange hissing. At once, the tap glowed with a brilliant, white light, and began to spin. Next, the sink began to move. The sink descended out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed. The pipe was wide enough for a man to fit.

Ron gasped.

"I'm going down there," Harry said.

"So am I," I said. I couldn't leave, not after we had found the Chamber, not if there was the faintest chance Ginny was still alive. Harry looked at me, but he didn't make me leave.

"Me too," Ron said.

There was a pause.

"Well, you hardly seem to need me," Lockhart said. "I'll just–"

He put his hand on the door knob, but the three us pointed our wands at him.

"You can go first," Ron snarled. Lockhart walked in front of the opening.

"What good will it do?" Lockhart asked, his voice feeble.

Harry and I jabbed him in the back. Lockhart slid his legs into the pipe.

"I really don't think–" he started to stay, but I had had enough, and along with Ron, I gave Lockhart a push, and he slid out of sight. Harry went next, he lowered himself into the pipe.

"Lizzie, you come straight after me, but I understand if you don't want to–"

He didn't get a chance to finish, because I gave him a push.

"_LIZZIE_!"

I lowered myself into the pipe, and let go.

It was like sliding down an endless, slimy, slide. There were more pipes branching off, but none as large as the one we were in. It twisted, and turned, falling steeply downwards, and I knew we were falling deeper beneath the school than even the dungeons. In front of me, I could just see Harry, and behind me, I could hear Ron.

Finally, the pipe levelled out, and I flew out of the end with a wet thud, landing on a damp floor of a dark, stone tunnel, big enough to sand in. Lockhart stood a little way away, covered in slime, and as white as a ghost. Harry stood to the side, I joined him as Ron flew out of the pipe too.

"We must be miles under the school," Harry said, his voice echoing.

"Under the lake probably," Ron said.

All four us stared at the darkness ahead.

"_Lumos_," Harry muttered. I followed his example. "C'mon," he said to us.

We set off. Our footsteps echoing loudly in the tunnel. It was so dark, that we could only see a little distance ahead.

"Remember," Harry quietly warned, "any sign of movement, close your eyes straightaway…"

But the tunnel was very quiet, and the first unexpected sound we heard, was a loud _crunch_ as Ron's foot stepped on what turned out to be a rat's skull. I lowered my wand to discover the floor was littered with animal bones. I tried hard not to think about what Ginny might look like when we found her as Harry led the way around a bend in the tunnel.

"Harry, there's something up there…" Ron said hoarsely.

We froze, watching. I could see the outline of something huge, and curved, lying right across the tunnel.

"Maybe it's asleep," Harry said. I ran forward. "Lizzie! What _are_ you doing?"

I reached out and touched it. "Relax, it's just skin." The skin was vivid, poisonous green in colour, lying curled up and empty across the tunnel. It looked to be about twenty feet long.

"Blimey," Ron said.

There was a sudden movement behind us. Lockhart's knee's had given way.

"Get up," Ron said sharply, pointing his wand at Lockhart.

Lockhart got to his feet, then dived at Ron, knocking him to the ground.

Harry jumped forward, but it was too late. Lockhart straightened up, panting, holding Ron's wand, and smiling.

"The adventure ends here," he said. "I shall take a bit of this skin back to the school, tell them I was too late to save the girl, and that you three _tragically_ lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body. Say goodbye to your memories."

He raised Ron's broken wand high above his head, and shouted, "_Obliviate_!"

The wand exploded. I threw my arms over my head, and ran after Harry, slipping slightly on the snakeskin, out of the way as great chunks of the tunnel ceiling fell to the floor. Next moment, Harry and I were standing alone, looking at a wall of broken rock.

"Ron!" Harry shouted. "Are you okay? Ron!"

"I'm here!" Ron said, his voice muffled by the rock. "I'm okay. This git's not though– he got blasted by the wand."

There was a thud, and a loud 'ow!'. It sounded as though Ron had kicked Lockhart in the shins.

"What now?" Ron asked. "We can't get through. It'll take ages…"

I glanced at the ceiling; there were huge cracks in it now. It didn't look like it was a good idea to try and blast the wall apart by magic, it was too risky. What if the tunnel caved in?

There was another thud, and another 'ow!'.

"Harry, we're wasting time. Ginny's been down here for _hours_," I said.

"Wait there," he called to Ron. "Wait with Lockhart. I'll go on. If we're not back in an hour…"

There was a pause.

"I'll try and shift some of this rock," Ron said. "So you can– can get back through. And Harry–"

"See you in a bit," Harry said.

Together we set off past the gigantic snakeskin.

Soon, the noise of Ron straining to move the rock was gone. The tunnel turned, and turned again. I kept wishing the tunnel would end, but dreaded what we might find when it did. At last, as we turned around another bend, we saw a solid wall ahead, on which two entwined snakes were carved, their eyes were great, glinting emeralds.

We approached. Harry seemed to know what had to do.

He turned to me. "Ready?" he asked. I swallowed, and nodded.

He cleared his throat, opened his mouth, and low, faint hiss came out.

The snakes parted as the wall cracked open, the halves slid out of sight.

Instinctively, I grabbed Harry's hand– something I hadn't done since I was five. He gave my hand a squeeze, and we set off.

Brother and sister –two of the most famous kids in the wizarding world– off to fight the evil that lies ahead.

* * *

**Author's Note: There you have it, two more chapters and I'm finished with COS. I seriously debated on whether or not Lizzie should've continued to the Chamber of Secrets, but she had already gone that far, so why not? Please review, even if it's a flame, I really don't care.**


	15. Chapter 15: The Actual Heir of Slytherin

**Disclaimer: I **_**own **_**it? I OWN IT! **_**I can't **_**believe **_**you fell for that– **_**voice in my head. Shut up. **

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

**The Actual Heir of Slytherin**

_Lizzie's POV_

_Still the same day, or maybe past midnight_

_The Chamber of Secrets_

We were standing at the end of a dimly lit corridor. Immense stone pillars entwined with more carved snakes rose to support a ceiling lost in the darkness.

I could feel my heart beating very fast. There was nothing but silence. I didn't think the Basilisk would be waiting for us, but where's Ginny?

Harry began to head down the corridor, and I followed. Our footsteps echoed loudly off the walls. Harry had his eyes narrowed; I didn't, mainly because I was sure we would hear anything coming a mile away. The eye sockets of the stone snakes seemed to be following us, actually… they probably _were_.

As we reached the end of the pillars, a statue as high as the Chamber itself came into view, standing against the back wall.

Harry and I both had to crane our necks to look at the giant face above. It was ancient, and monkey-like, with a long, thin beard that almost reached Slytherin's robes, where two enormous feet stood. And between the feet, lay a small, black-robed figure with flaming red hair.

"_Ginny_!" Harry and I said, both of us sprinting towards her. Immediately, both of us dropped to our knees.

"Ginny! Don't be dead! Please don't be dead!" Harry said, flinging his wand aside, he turned her over. Her eyes were closed, she wasn't Petrified, she was as cold as ice, and pale. I checked her pulse, she was alive, but just.

"Gin, please wake up. _Please_. Come on, we already forgive you. It's Harry, and me, Lizzie, here with you. Wake up so we can get out of this nightmare."

"Ginny, please wake up," Harry muttered, shaking her.

"She won't wake," a soft voice said.

Harry and I both jumped, and spun around.

A tall, black-haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching. He was blurred around the edges. I knew who this must be, it was Tom Riddle.

"Tom– _Tom Riddle_?" Harry asked. Ah, so Harry _did_ figure out how to work out the diary.

Ginny had showed us once.

"What d'you mean, 'she won't wake'?" Harry asked desperately. "She's not– she's not–?"

I wanted to yell, 'No, Harry, she's not. Now let's stop chit-chatting with the enemy, grab Ginny, and _go_!', but I kept my mouth shut, curious to see what Riddle would say.

"She's still alive. But only just," Riddle said.

"Are you a ghost?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"A memory," Riddle said quietly. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years."

He pointed towards the floor near Slytherin's toes. Lying there was Ginny's diary.

"You've got to help me, Tom," Harry said, raising Ginny's head. I rushed forward to lift her feet. "We've got to get her our of here. There's a Basilisk… I don't know where it is, but it could be along any moment. Please, help me…"

Harry bent to grab his wand again, but it had gone. And I had an idea on who had grabbed it.

"Did you see–?"

"He has it, Harry," I said. Riddle was still watching us, whilst twirling Harry's wand between his fingers.

"Thanks," Harry said, stretching his hand out for it. Riddle continued to twirl Harry's wand.

"Listen," Harry said, both of us starting to fall over with Ginny's weight, "_we've got to go_! If the Basilisk comes…"

"It won't come until it is called," Riddle said calmly. Harry and I lowered Ginny onto the floor again, unable to hold her up any longer.

"What d'you mean?" Harry asked. "Look, give me my wand, I might need it."

Riddle smiled.

"You won't be needing it," he said.

"What d'you mean, 'I won't be–?"

"It means, he's not going to give you your wand, and he most definitely isn't going to help us," I snapped.

Riddle finally looked at me, "Let me see, tall, red hair, green eyes… you must be Elizabeth Potter."

"Very good, Riddle, just get on with it," I snapped, my temper rising.

"Very well," Riddle said, turning back to Harry. "I've waited a long time for this, Harry Potter. For the chance to see you. To speak to you."

"Look," Harry said, I could hear he was losing his patience, "I don't think you get it. We're in the _Chamber of Secrets_. We can talk later."

"We're going to talk now," Riddle said, still smiling, and he pocketed Harry's wand.

Harry stared at him.

"How did Ginny get like this?" he asked.

"Well, that's an interesting question," Riddle said pleasantly. "And quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart, and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked. I knew what Riddle was talking about.

"The diary," Riddle said. "_My _diary. Little Ginny's been writing been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes: how her brothers _tease _her, how she had to come to school in second-hand robes and books, how she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would _ever_ like her…"

The whole time Riddle spoke, his eyes never left Harry's face.

"It's very _boring_, having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old girl. But I was patient. I wrote back, I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply _loved_ me. _No one's ever understood me like you, Tom_…_ I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in_…_ It's like having a friend I can carry round my pocket_…"

Riddle laughed, a high, cold laugh that didn't suit him.

"If I say it myself, Harry, Elizabeth, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted. I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of _my _secrets, to start pouring a little of _my _soul back into _her_…"

"What d'you mean?" Harry asked, yet again.

"Harry," I said quietly. "_Ginny_ opened the Chamber, but _he _was possessing her."

"Quite right, Miss Potter. Yes, Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets. She strangled the school roosters, and daubed threatening messages on the walls. She set the Serpent of Slytherin on six Mudbloods, one blood-traitor, and the Squib's cat. When did you figure it out Miss Potter? Just now, or on you own?"

"On my own, thank you very much."

"No," Harry whispered, apparently not hearing what I had just said.

"Yes," Riddle continued calmly. "Of course, she didn't _know_ what she was doing at first. It was very amusing. I wish you could have seen her new diary entries… Far more interesting, they became… _Dear Tom_," Riddle recited, watching mine and Harry's horrified faces, "_I think I'm losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes, and I don't know how they got there. Dear Tom, I can't remember what I did on the night of Hallowe'en, but a cat was attacked, and I've got paint all down my front. Dear Tom, Percy keeps telling me I'm pale, and I'm not myself. I think he suspects me… There was another attack today, and I don't know where I was. Tom, what am I going to do? I think I'm going mad… I think I'm the one attacking everyone, Tom_!"

Harry's fists were clenched, and sparks were flying out of my wand.

"It took a very long time for stupid little Ginny to stop trusting her diary," Riddle said. "But she finally became suspicious, and tried to dispose of it. And that's where _you_ come in, Harry. You found it, and I couldn't have been more delighted. Of all the people who could have picked it up, it was _you_, the very person I was most anxious to meet…"

"And why did you want to meet me?" Harry asked.

"Well, you see, Ginny told me all about you, Harry. Your whole _fascinating_ history. Yours and your sister's." Riddle looked at Harry's scar, before continuing. "I knew I must find out more about you, talk to you, meet you if I could. So I decided to show you my famous capture of that great oaf, Hagrid, to gain your trust."

"Hagrid's our friend," we both said.

"You framed him, didn't you? I thought you had made a mistake, but–" Harry said.

Riddle laughed again.

"It was my word against Hagrid's, Harry. Well, you can imagine how it looked to Armando Dippet. On the one hand, Tom Riddle, poor but brilliant, parentless, but so _brave_, school Prefect, model student; on the other hand, big, blundering Hagrid, in trouble every other week, trying to raise werewolf cubs under his bed, sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest to wrestle trolls. But I admit, even _I _was surprised how well the plan worked. I thought _someone_ must realise that Hagrid couldn't possibly be the Heir of Slytherin. It had taken _me_ five whole years to find out everything I could about the Chamber of Secrets, and discover the secret entrance… as though Hagrid had the brains or the power!

"Only the Transfiguration teacher, Dumbledore, seemed to think Hagrid was innocent. He persuaded Dippet to keep Hagrid, and train him as gamekeeper. Yes, I think Dumbledore might have guessed. Dumbledore never seemed to like me as much as the other teachers did…"

"I bet Dumbledore saw right through you," I said angrily, my temper rising.

"Well, he certainly kept an annoyingly close watch on me after Hagrid was expelled," Riddle said carelessly. "I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the Chamber again while I was at school. But I wasn't going to waste those long years I spent searching for it. I decided to leave a diary, preserving my sixteen-year-old self in its pages, so that one day, with luck, I would be able to lead another in my footsteps, and finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work."

"Well, you haven't finished it. No one's died this time, not even the cat. In a few hours the Mandrake Draught will be ready, and everyone who was Petrified will be all right again," Harry said triumphantly.

"Haven't I already told you," Riddle said quietly, "that killing Mudbloods doesn't matter to me anymore? For many months now, my new target has been– _you_."

Harry and I stared at him.

"Imagine how angry I was when the next time my diary was opened, it was Ginny who was writing to me, not you. She saw you with the diary, you see, and panicked. What if you found out how to work it, and I repeated all her secrets to you? What if, even worse, I told you who'd been strangling roosters? So the foolish little brat waited until your dormitory was deserted, and stole it back. But I knew what I must do. It was clear to me that you were on the trail of Slytherin's heir. From everything Ginny had told me about you, I knew you would go to any lengths to solve the mystery– particularly if one of your best friends, and your mother was attacked. And Ginny had told me the whole school was buzzing because you could speak Parseltongue…"

"So I made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall, and come down here to wait. She struggled and cried and became _very_ boring. But there isn't much life left in her: she put too much into the diary, into me. Enough to let me leave its pages at last. I have been waiting for you to appear since we arrived here. I knew you'd come. I have many questions, Harry Potter."

"Like what?" Harry spat, his fists clenched.

"Well," Riddle said, smiling pleasantly, "how is it that a baby with no extraordinary magical talent managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did _you_ escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?"

There was a red gleam in his eyes now.

"Why do you care how I escaped?" Harry asked slowly. "Voldemort was after your time.""Voldemort, is my past, present, and future, Harry and Elizabeth Potter…"

He pulled Harry's wand from his pocket, and began to trace it through the air, writing three shimmering words:

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

He then waved the wand once, and the letters rearranged themselves:

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

"You see?" whispered Riddle. "It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends only, of course. You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father's name forever?" I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother's side? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch? No, Harry, Elizabeth. I fashioned my self a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world!"

I looked at Harry. He was staring numbly at Riddle.

"You're not," he said, his voice full with hatred.

"Not what?" Riddle snapped.

"Not the greatest sorcerer in the world," I replied angrily. "Sorry to disappoint, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everybody says so. Even when you were strong, you didn't dare try to take over Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you as a kid, and he still frightens you, wherever you're hiding nowadays."

The smile had faded from Riddle's face, and had been replaced by an ugly look.

"Dumbledore's been driven out of this castle by the mere _memory _of me!" he hissed.

"He's not as gone as you might think!" Harry retorted.

Riddle opened his mouth, but froze.

Music was coming from somewhere. Riddle looked around to stare down the empty chamber. The music was growing louder. It was eerie, and unearthly. Then as the music reached such a pitch that I felt in my own ribs, flames erupted at the top of the nearest pillar.

A large, crimson had appeared, piping its music to the ceiling. It had a large, golden tail as long as a peacock's, and golden talons, which were gripping a ragged bundle.

A second later, the bird was flying straight at Harry. It dropped the ragged bundle at Harry's feet, and then landed on Harry's shoulder.

The bird had stopped singing. It sat still on Harry's shoulder, gazing at Riddle.

"That's a phoenix…" Riddle said.

"_Fawkes_?" Harry breathed.

"And _that_–" Riddle said, now eyeing the ragged bundle Fawkes had dropped, "that's the old school Sorting Hat."

So it was. Patched, frayed, and dirty, the Hat laid motionlessly at Harry's feet.

Riddle began to laugh again. He laughed so hard that it echoed off the chamber.

* * *

_Normal POV_

"This is what Dumbledore sends his defenders! A songbird and an old hat! Do you feel brave, Harry and Elizabeth Potter? Do you feel safe now?" Riddle laughed.

Neither Harry nor Lizzie answered, and neither could see what use Fawkes and the Sorting Hat would be. They waited for Riddle to stop laughing.

"To business, Harry," Riddle said, still smiling. "Twice –in _your _past, in _my _future– we have met. And twice I failed to kill you. _How did you survive_? Tell me everything. The longer you talk," he added, "the longer you and your sister stay alive."

Harry was thinking fast. Riddle had his wand, but Lizzie still had hers, and there was Fawkes and the Sorting Hat. The only major problem at the moment, was that the longer Riddle stood there, the closer Ginny was to death. And Riddle was becoming more solid as time passed.

"No one knows why you lost your powers when you attacked me," Harry said suddenly. "I don't know myself. But I know why you couldn't _kill _me. Because my father died to save me and Liz. He stopped you killing me. And I've seen the real you, I saw you last year. You're a wreck. You're barely alive. That's where all your power got you. You're in hiding. You're ugly, you're foul!"

Riddle didn't look pleased. He forced his face into an awful smile.

"So. Your father died to save you. Yes, that's a powerful counter-charm. I can see now– there is nothing special about you after all. I wondered, you see. Because there are strange likenesses between us, Harry Potter. Even you must have noticed. Both half-bloods, Parselmouths, we even _look _something alike. But after all, it was only a lucky chance that saved you from me. That's all I wanted to know."

Harry and Lizzie stood waiting, but Riddle did nothing, except smile.

"Now, Harry, Elizabeth, I'm going to teach you a little lesson. Let's match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, against famous Harry and Elizabeth Potter, and the best weapons Dumbledore can give them."

Harry glanced at his sister. He knew that look, even if he hadn't seen it in five years. Her green eyes flashed dangerously, and sparks were still flying out of her wand. Harry knew Riddle had made Lizzie extremely angry. Actually, she was beyond angry, she was _livid_. Harry felt fear spreading through him. He glanced at his sister again, if she was afraid, she didn't show it.

Actually, Lizzie was afraid. Not of Riddle or the Basilisk. Or even death, she knew everyone had to die someday. No, she was just afraid of dying before she had a chance to live her life, and dying down here with no one knowing.

Riddle walked away, stopped between the pillars, and looked up at Slytherin's face. He opened his mouth, and hissed, with only Harry understanding.

"What did he say?" Lizzie asked.

"Umm… '_Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four_.'"

Harry and Lizzie looked at the statue. The face was moving. They watched as the mouth opened wider, and wider, leaving a huge black hole.

Both could hear something stirring in its depths. Something was slithering up from its depths.

Lizzie watched as Harry backed away, until he hit the Chamber wall, and shut his eyes. Fawkes took off from Harry's shoulders.

She hid behind a pillar as the Basilisk's body hit the floor. She heard Riddle hiss again, and just this once, she wished she could understand Parseltongue.

The Basilisk headed towards Harry. Eyes still shut, Harry begun to run blindly sideways, his hands outstretched. Riddle was laughing…

Lizzie decided she need to do something. She began to rummage through her pockets. Grinning, she pulled out what she had found– a Filibuster Firework. As Harry tripped, she began to whistle, and stomped her feet. The Basilisk left Harry alone, and made its way towards Lizzie instead.

Harry, who had been waiting for fangs to sink into him, opened his eyes to see what was distracting the snake. He was horrified as it headed towards Lizzie.

"Lizzie! What _are _you doing?" Harry yelled.

"Shut up! I know what I'm doing, just be quiet!" Lizzie shouted back, as the Basilisk drew closer. She lit the Firework, took aim, closed her eyes, and threw it. She heard a thud as it landed on target. The Basilisk's tail.

"Three… two… one!" Lizzie counted, and the Firework went off.

The Basilisk hissed in agony, but the Firework had only scorched the skin, and left a small, bleeding wound. Lizzie could hear something else attacking the snake. She opened one eye, and saw Fawkes soaring around the Basilisk's head. The Basilisk was hissing angrily at Fawkes.

Fawkes dived. His beak disappeared out of sight, and dark blood spattered the floor. The Basilisk's tail thrashed, nearly missing Harry, and before Harry could close his eyes, the snake turned. Both of its great, yellow eyes, had been punctured by Fawkes; blood was cascading to the floor, and the snake was spitting in agony.

"_No_!" Riddle was screaming in Parseltongue. "_Leave the bird_! _Leave the bird_! _The boy is behind you_! _You can still smell him_! _Kill him_!"

The snake swayed, blinded. Fawkes was circling above its head, still singing, jabbing here and there at the Basilisk's nose, while the blood poured from its eyes.

"Anymore bright ideas?" Harry shouted to Lizzie.

"No."

"No? What d'you mean '_no_'?"

"How often do you tackle a giant snake, Harry?" Lizzie shouted. "Wait… grab the Hat!"

"Where is it?"

"I dunno!"

The Basilisk's tail whipped again. Harry ducked, and something soft hit his face. It was the Sorting Hat.

"Now what?"

"Put it on!"

"Just 'put it on'?"

"There's some legend about the Sorting Hat."

Harry jammed the Hat on his head like Lizzie had instructed. Lizzie watched, hoping she wasn't wrong about her brother. Evidently, she wasn't. Lizzie watched astonished as Harry wielded the sword of Godric Gryffindor.

"_Kill the boy_! _Leave the bird_! _The boy is behind you_! _Sniff– smell him_!"

Harry was on his feet ready. The Basilisk's head was falling. Its body coiling around, hitting pillars as it turned to face her brother. Lizzie could see the mouth opening wide enough to swallow her brother whole. It lunged. Harry dodged it, and it hit the Chamber wall. It lunged again, and its tongue hit Harry's side. He raised the sword in both his hands.

The Basilisk lunged again; this time, its aim true. Harry drove the sword through the roof of the Basilisk's mouth.

Blood drenched Harry's arm. But it wasn't that Lizzie was worried about, she more concerned about the fang in her brother's arm. It splintered as the Basilisk keeled over.

Quick as a flash, Lizzie was next to Harry. She watched as Harry slid down to the floor, and pulled the poisonous fang out of his arm.

"Harry? Are you all right? Can you hear me?" Lizzie asked anxiously.

"Liz?" Harry asked weakly, his vision foggy.

"Who else, you idiot?"

"Shouldn't you be nice to me if I'm going to die?"

"Yeah, I suppose," she said as Fawkes landed next to Harry.

"Fawkes," Harry said thickly. "You were brilliant, Fawkes…" Fawkes laid his head on Harry's wound. "You too, Liz, you were brilliant, and brave…"

"Stop acting like you're dying," Lizzie said.

"But I _am_," Harry protested.

Lizzie leaned over so Riddle wouldn't hear, and whispered into her brother's ear, "Says who? Your number isn't up yet."

Harry looked at his sister, bewildered, she winked as Riddle came closer, and managed a few tears.

"You're dead, Harry Potter," Riddle said. "Dead. Even Dumbledore's bird knows it. Do you see what he's doing, Potter? He's crying."

Harry turned to Fawkes.

"I'm going to sit here and watch you die, Harry Potter. Take your time. I'm in no hurry.

"So ends the famous Harry Potter," Riddle continued. "Almost alone in the Chamber of Secrets, forsaken by his friends, defeated at last by the Dark Lord he so unwisely challenged. You'll be back with your dear blood-traitor father soon, Harry… He bought you nine years of borrowed time… but Lord Voldemort got you in the end, as you knew he must."

Lizzie watched as Harry's wound disappeared. Fawkes still had his head rested on Harry's arm.

"Get away, bird," Riddle said suddenly. "Get away from him, I said, _get away_!"

Riddle pointed Harry's wand at Fawkes; it went off with a bang, and Fawkes took off.

"Phoenix tears," Riddle said quietly, staring at Harry's arm. "Of course… healing powers… I forgot…"

Riddle looked at Harry. "But it makes no difference. In fact, I prefer it this way. Just you and me, Harry Potter… you and me…"

Lizzie heard a rustle of wings as Fawkes flew overhead, and dropped something in Harry's lap– _the diary_.  
For a split second, all three stared at it. Without thinking, Lizzie seized the diary, placed it on the floor, and held it steady as Harry snatched the Basilisk fang, and plunged it into the diary.

There was a long, dreadful scream. Ink came out of the diary in streams, over Harry and Lizzie's hands, flooding the floor. Riddle was twisting and screaming and then…

He had gone. Harry's wand fell to the floor, and there was silence except for the ink from the diary. The Basilisk venom had burned a hole right through it.

Lizzie stood up, and pulled her brother to his feet. Harry grabbed his wand, the Sorting Hat, and with a huge tug, Gryffindor's sword from the Basilisk's mouth.

"How on earth did you know about the sword?" Harry asked.

"I read about it somewhere," Lizzie said with a shrug.

A faint moan came from the end of the Chamber. Ginny was finally stirring. As Harry and Lizzie hurried towards her, she sat up. Her confused eyes travelled from the huge form of the dead Basilisk, over Harry and Lizzie in their blood-soaked robes, then to the diary in Harry's hand. She drew a great, shuddering gasp, and the tears began to pour down her face.

"Harry– oh, Harry– I tried to tell you at breakfast, but I c-_couldn't _say it front of Percy. It was _me_, Harry– but I– I s-swear I d-didn't mean to– R-Riddle made me, he t-took me over– and– _how_ did you kill that– that thing? W-where's Riddle? The last thing I r-remember is him coming out of the diary–"

"Ginny, it's okay," Lizzie said, hugging her friend. Lizzie pointed at the hole in the diary. "Riddle's finished. Look! Him and the Basilisk! C'mon, Gin, let's go."

"I'm going to be expelled!" Ginny wailed, as Harry and Lizzie helped her to her feet. "I've looked forward to coming to Hogwarts ever since B-Bill came and n-now I'll have to leave and– _w-what'll Mum and Dad say_?"

Fawkes was waiting for them, at the entrance to the Chamber. Lizzie urged Ginny forward; they stepped over the motionless coils of the Basilisk. Back through the darkness, and back into the tunnel. The stone doors closed behind them with a soft hiss.

After a few minutes in the dark tunnel, the sound of slowly shifting rocks could be heard.

"Ron!" Harry yelled, speeding up. "Ginny's okay! I've got her!"

They heard Ron give a cheer, and they turned the next bend to see his face staring through the sizeable gap he had managed to make in the rock fall.

"_Ginny_!" Ron thrust an arm through the gap to pull her through. "You're alive! I don't believe it! What happened?"

Lizzie went next.

Ron tried to hug Ginny, but she held him off, sobbing.

"But you're okay, Ginny," Ron said, beaming at her. "It's over now, it's– where did that bird come from?"

Fawkes had swooped through after Lizzie.

"He's Dumbledore's," Harry said, squeezing through the gap.

"And how come you've got a _sword_?" Ron asked, gaping at the weapon in Harry's hand.

"I'll explain when we get out of here," Harry said, looking at Ginny.

"But–"

"Later," Harry said.

"Where's Lockhart?" Lizzie asked, not really caring.

"Back there," Ron answered, grinning and jerking his head up the tunnel. "He's in a bad way. Come and see."

Led by Fawkes, whose scarlet wings emitted a soft, golden glow in the darkness, they walked all the way back to the mouth of the pipe. Lockhart was sitting there, humming to himself.

"His memory's gone," Ron said. "The Memory Charm backfired. Hit him instead of us. Hasn't got a clue who he is, or where he is, or who we are. I told him to come and wait here. He's a danger to himself."

Lockhart looked good-naturedly up at them.

"Hello," he said. "Odd sort of place, this, isn't it? Do you live here?"

"No," Ron said.

Harry looked up the long, dark pipe.

"Have you thought how we're going to get back up this?" he asked Ron.

Ron shook his head, but Fawkes was fluttering in front of Harry. He was waving his long tail feathers. Harry looked at him uncertainly.

"He looks like he wants you to grab hold…" Ron said, perplexed. "But you're much too heavy for a bird to pull up there."

Lizzie stepped forward. "Fawkes… isn't an ordinary bird. He's a phoenix. And phoenixes can carry immensely heavy loads. We've got to hold onto each other. Ginny, grab Ron's hand. Lockhart–"

"She means you," Ron said sharply to Lockhart.

"You hold Ginny's other hand."

Harry tucked the sword and the Sorting Hat into his belt, and held his hand out to his sister. She took it. Ron grabbed the back of her robes, and with a nod from Lizzie, Harry took hold of Fawkes' hot tail feathers.

Lizzie felt an extraordinary lightness spread through her whole body, and next second, with a whoosh, they were flying upwards through the pipe. Lizzie could hear Lockhart saying, "Amazing! Amazing! This is just like magic!"

Too soon, in Lizzie's opinion, the ride was over. All five of them hit Moaning Myrtle's floor, and as Lockhart straightened his hat, the sink that hid the pipe was sliding back into place.

Myrtle goggled at them.

"You're alive," she said blankly to Harry.

"There's no need to sound so disappointed," he said grimly, wiping blood and slime off his glasses.

"Oh, well… I'd just been thinking. If you had died, you'd have been welcome to share my toilet," Myrtle said, blushing.

"Urgh!" Ron said, as they left the bathroom. "Harry! I think Myrtle's got _fond_ of you! You've got competition, Ginny!"

"_Harry and Myrtle sittin' in a tree, K–I–S–S–I–N–G_," Lizzie sang quietly.

"Oh, shut up," Harry said to her.

"You can't make me," Lizzie said.

"Where now?" Ron asked. Harry pointed.

Fawkes was leading the way, again. They walked behind him, and moments later, they found themselves out side Professor McGonagall's office.

Harry knocked, and pushed the door open.

* * *

**Author's Note: Final chapter that deals with COS is next, then a brief chapter on third year. That might not be until the middle of July. Please review.**


	16. Chapter 16: End of a Horrible Year

**Disclaimer: I, sadly, along with the other authors on here, own nothing but my own characters. Everything else belongs to JK.**

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen  
End of a Horrible Year**

_Lizzie's POV  
May 30, 1993  
__Very early in the morning_

For a moment, there was silence as Harry, Ron, Ginny, Lockhart, and I stood in the doorway covered in muck and slime and (in mine and Harry's case) blood. Then there was a scream.

"_Ginny_!"

It was Mrs. Weasley. She leapt to her feet, closely followed by Mr. Weasley, and they both flung themselves on Ginny.

I looked past them. Professor Dumbledore stood by the mantelpiece, beaming, next to McGonagall, who was taking great, steadying gasps, clutching her chest. Fawkes flew over to Dumbledore, and landed on his shoulder, just as Harry, Ron, and I were being swept into Mrs. Weasley's tight embrace.

"You saved her! You saved her! _How_ did you do it?"

"I think we'd all like to know that," McGonagall said weakly.

Mrs. Weasley let go of Harry. He hesitated for a moment, then walked over to the desk, and placed the Sorting Hat, Gryffindor's sword, and what remained of Riddle's diary.

And he told them everything. For nearly fifteen minutes, he spoke into the silence, with me occasionally adding something. He told them about hearing the disembodied voice, how Hermione and I had figured out he was hearing a Basilisk in the plumbing, how Harry, Ron, and I followed the spiders into the Forest, that Aragog had told us where the last victim had died, how I had figured out it was Moaning Myrtle, and how he had guessed the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets might be in her bathroom…

"Very well," McGonagall prompted Harry, "so you found out where the entrance was –breaking a hundred school rules into pieces along the way, I might add– but how on _earth _did you all get out of there alive, Potter?"

Harry looked at me. I could see he was tired of talking, and I continued the tale. I told them about Fawkes's timely arrival, and that I knew about the sword, and the Sorting Hat. I had avoided so far, mentioning the diary, or Ginny. Dumbledore might believe Harry and me about the diary, but that would be it. Ginny could be expelled. Riddle was no longer a part of the diary, how do we prove Ginny didn't do it?

I looked at Dumbledore, who smiled faintly.

"What interests _me_ most," Dumbledore said gently, "is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny, when my sources tell me he is currently hiding in the forests of Albania."

"W-what's that?" Mr. Weasley asked, stunned. "_You-Know-Who_? En-enchant _Ginny_? But Ginny's not… Ginny hasn't been… has she?"

"It was this diary," Harry said quickly, he picked up, and showed it to Dumbledore. "Riddle wrote it when he was sixteen."

Dumbledore took the diary from Harry, and peered at it.

"Brilliant," he said softly. "Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen." He turned to the Weasleys, who looked utterly bewildered.

"Very few people know that Lord Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle. I taught him myself, fifty years ago, at Hogwarts. He disappeared after leaving the school… travelled far and wide… sank so deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the very worst of our kind, underwent so many dangerous, magical transformations, that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was barely recognisable. Hardly anyone connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here."

"But Ginny," Mrs. Weasley said, "what's our Ginny got to do with –with– _him_?"

"His d-diary!" Ginny sobbed. "I've b-been writing in it, and he's been w-writing back all year–"

"_Ginny_!" Mr. Weasley said, shocked. "Haven't I taught you _anything_? What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself _if you can't see where it keeps its brain_. Why didn't you show the diary to me, or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was _clearly_ full of Dark magic!"

"I d-didn't know," Ginny sobbed. "I found it inside one of the books Mum got me. I th-thought someone had just left it in there and forgotten about it…"

"Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing straightaway," Dumbledore interrupted in a firm voice. "This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort." He walked over to the door, and held it open. "Bed rest and perhaps a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up. You will find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She's just giving out Mandrake juice– I daresay the Basilisk's victims will be waking up any moment."

"So Hermione's okay!" Ron said brightly.

"There has been no lasting harm done," Dumbledore said.

Mrs. Weasley led Ginny out, and Mr. Weasley followed.

"You know, Minerva," Dumbledore said thoughtfully to McGonagall, "I think this merits a good _feast_. Might I ask you to go and alert the kitchens?"

"Right," McGonagall said briskly, also moving to the door. "I'll leave you to deal with Miss Potter, Potter, and Weasley, shall I?"

"Certainly," Dumbledore replied.

_What_? We just risked our lives, saved Ginny, _and killed_ a Basilisk, and we're going to get _punished_? Where is the fairness in that?

"I seem to remember telling you both," he indicated Harry and Ron, "that I would have to expel you if you broke anymore school rules," Dumbledore said.

Ron opened his mouth in horror.

"Which goes to show that the best of us must sometimes eat our words," Dumbledore continued, smiling. "All three of you will receive Special Awards for Services to the School and –let me see– yes, I think two hundred points apiece for Gryffindor."

Ron went pink, and closed his mouth.

"But one of us seems to be keeping mightily quiet about his part in this dangerous adventure. Why so modest, Gilderoy?"

I looked at Lockhart, I had totally forgotten about him. When Dumbledore had addressed him, he looked over his shoulder to see who Dumbledore was talking to.

"Professor Dumbledore," Ron said quickly, "there was an accident down in the Chamber of Secrets. Professor Lockhart–"

"Am I a Professor?" Lockhart said, surprised. "Goodness, I expect I was hopeless, was I?"

"He tried to do a Memory Charm, and the wand backfired," Ron finished explaining.

"Dear me," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "Impaled upon your own sword, Gilderoy!"

"Sword?" Lockhart repeated dimly. "Haven't got a sword. That boy has though." He pointed at Harry. "He'll lend you one."

"Would you mind taking Professor Lockhart up to the hospital wing, too?" Dumbledore asked Ron. "I'd like a few more words with Harry and Elizabeth…"

Lockhart left. Ron looked curiously at us, before leaving.

"Elizabeth, could I ask you why you do not think you are a true Gryffindor?" Dumbledore asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. "It seemed more appropriate if Harry slaughtered the Basilisk instead of an average, scrawny, eleven-year-old girl."

"You, Elizabeth, are not average. You are a bright, brave, young witch. How could you not be? You are the daughter of Lily Evans and James Potter."

"Thanks, Professor," I said, my cheeks felt hot. "Can I wait in the corridor, or would you like me to stay, sir?"

"No, you may wait in the corridor," Dumbledore said. I almost ran to the door. I quickly opened it, and stepped into the corridor; into darkness.

I just sat there, thinking over what Dumbledore had said. He thought I was a true Gryffindor. And that I'm my parent's daughter. Most people just said, "You look extraordinarily like your mother, but your personality is close to your father's."

I heard footsteps, quick footsteps. I looked down the corridor, and I saw blond hair, and big, green eyes in the darkness. Dobby's family is the Malfoys? Ah, poor Dobby. I pulled on my hood so my hair wouldn't give me away.

I waited as Malfoy talked to Dumbledore; thinking of a way to save Dobby. Hmm… Aha! I took of my shoes, and examined my socks to see which was cleaner. My left was, I decided. I ripped it off, and put my shoe back on. After a few more minutes, the door was opened, and Dobby kicked from it. I could hear Dobby squealing with pain down the corridor. I got up, and walked into McGonagall's office.

"Professor," I said. "could we give the diary _back_ to Mr. Malfoy, please?"

"Certainly, Elizabeth," Dumbledore said. "But hurry. The feast, you know."

Harry grabbed the diary, and both of us dashed from the office, following Dobby's squeals of pain. I tossed Harry my sock.

"Stuff the diary in it!" I said urgently.

"You," Harry said, "are a bloody _genius_."

We caught up with Malfoy and Dobby at the top of the stairs.

"Mr. Malfoy," Harry gasped, "I've got something for you."

He forced my smelly sock into Malfoy's hands.

"What the–?"

Malfoy ripped the sock of the diary, tossed it aside, then looked furiously from the ruined book to Harry to me.

"You'll meet the same sticky end as your father one of theses days, Harry and Elizabeth Potter," Malfoy said softly. "He was a meddlesome fool, too."

He turned to leave.

"Come, Dobby. I said, _come_!"

But Dobby didn't move. He was holding up my disgusting, once-white sock, and looking at it like it was a priceless treasure.

"Master has given Dobby a sock," Dobby said, amazed. "Master gave it to Dobby."

"What's that?" Malfoy spat. "What did you say?"

"Dobby has got a sock," Dobby said in disbelief. "Master threw it, and Dobby caught it, and Dobby– Dobby is _free_."

Malfoy stood frozen, staring at Dobby, then he turned to Harry and I.

"You've lost me my servant, boy!"

"You mean _slave_," I pointed out, "because you didn't exactly _pay_ Dobby, did you?"

Dobby shouted, "You shall not harm Harry or Elizabeth Potter!"

There was a loud bang, and Malfoy was thrown backwards. He crashed down the stairs, three at a time, landing in a heap, on the landing below. He got up, his face livid, and pulled out his wand, but Dobby raised a threatening finger.

"Pity Mr. Weasley couldn't've seen that," I whispered to Harry, he nodded.

"You shall go now," Dobby said. "You shall not touch Harry or Elizabeth Potter. You shall go now."

Malfoy had no choice. With a last, infuriated stare at us, he swung his cloak around him, and disappeared out of sight.

"Harry and Elizabeth Potter freed Dobby!" Dobby said piercingly.

"Least we could do, Dobby," I said grinning.

"Just promise never to try and save my life again," Harry added.

Dobby smiled.

"I've just got one question, Dobby," Harry said as Dobby put on my sock with shaking hands. "You told me all this had nothing to do with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, remember? Well–"

"It was a clue, sir," Dobby said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "The Dark Lord, before he changed his name, could be freely named, you see?"

"Right," Harry said. "Well, I'd better go. There's a feast, and my friend, Hermione, and my mum should be awake by now…"

Dobby threw his arms around me and hugged me, followed by Harry.

"Harry and Elizabeth Potter are greater by far than Dobby knew!" he sobbed. "Farewell, Harry and Elizabeth Potter!"

And with a final crack, Dobby disappeared.

* * *

_The Great Hall_

I've been to a few Hogwarts feasts, but never one _quite_ like this. _Everyone_ was in their pyjamas, and the celebrations lasted all night. When I first came in, I was nearly _squished_ to death by Sarah, Emma, Ailsa, Guinevere, Fred, and George, all of who seemed quite certain I was dead along with Ginny and Harry. Rhiannon and Henri received their fair share of squishing. Mum fell over when me, Harry, Rhiannon, Sarah, and Emma hugged her at the same time. Harry was scolded for letting me go along with into the Chamber of Secrets, _and _the Forbidden Forest. Hermione ran over to me and Harry, _screaming_, "You solved it! You solved it!" Hagrid showed up at half past three, cuffing Harry and Ron so hard on the shoulders that they were knocked into their plates of trifle. Mine, Harry, and Ron's six _hundred_ points for Gryffindor secured us the House Cup. McGonagall stood up, and told us exams had been cancelled as a school treat. Dumbledore announced that, Lockhart would _not_ be coming back next year, because he needed to get his memory back. A lot of the teachers joined in the cheering that greeted this announcement (Mum included). Dumbledore announced Mum wouldn't be coming back next year, either. The groans outdid the cheers.

* * *

_Lizzie's POV  
__June 30, 1993_

The rest of the summer term passed in a haze. Hogwarts was back to normal. Mum taught the rest of the term. Lucius Malfoy had been sacked as a school governor. Malfoy no longer strutted around the school like he owned it. And Ginny is perfectly happy again.

Too soon, it was time to leave. Rhiannon, Ginny, Henri, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and I got a compartment to ourselves. We made the most of the of our last hours in which we were allowed to do magic. We played Exploding Snap, set off the rest of Fred and George's Filibuster's Fireworks, and practised Disarming each other. We were almost at King's Cross when Harry asked Ginny something.

"Ginny– what did you see Percy doing, that he didn't want you to tell anyone?"

"Oh, that," Ginny said, giggling. "Well– Percy's got a _girlfriend_."

Fred dropped a stack of books on George's head, which some, inadvertently, landed on _my _head.

"Ouch," I said. "_Fred_." He didn't hear me.

"_What_?"

"It's that Ravenclaw Prefect, Penelope Clearwater," Ginny said. "That's who he was writing to all last summer. He's been meeting her all over the school in secret. I walked in on them kissing in an empty classroom one day. He was so upset when she was –you know– attacked. You won't tease him, will you?"

"Wouldn't dream of it," Fred said, who looked as if Christmas had come early.

"Definitely not," George added, sniggering.

The Hogwarts Express slowed, and finally stopped.

We got off the train, and saw Sirius and Remus, with Mum, Sarah, and Emmy already. We walked over.

"What's going on?" Rhiannon asked as she gave her father a hug. He pointed somewhere that was close to the barrier. There was a couple there, and from the look on Henri's face, I assumed they were her parents. The woman had straight, dirty blonde hair, and the man had curly black hair. They were staring at us with pure hatred.

Henri started towards them.

"Henri, leave your trunk," Mum instructed. "You too, Lizzie." She walked towards the Hawthornes with Henri and I following behind. I knew that look on Mum's face.

"Your parents are going to get it," I said to Henri. She nodded. We were close now. I looked behind me. The Weasleys, and Hermione, were still standing with Remus, Sirius, Rhiannon, and my siblings. All of them had their arms crossed, and looked more serious than I ever saw them.

* * *

_Henri's POV_

What were they _thinking_? Coming to pick me up, _after_ they had disowned me, and _banished me _from their home. How _dare _they show up like they care, like they _love_ me. Well, they're in for it. Lily will make sure of that.

I had looked behind me to find everyone –including the Weasleys and Hermione– right where we left them, and all of them had their arms crossed, and a dead serious look on their face.

We had finally reached my parents.

"Good afternoon," Lily said. "I'm Lily Potter. I taught Henrietta this year. This is my daughter, Elizabeth."

Lizzie gave a brief nod.

My mother had her nose the air, like she was better than these people, and blatantly ignored them.

"Go and get your trunk, Henrietta. We're going home," Mother said in a sharp voice.

"I'm not going with you anywhere," I answered.

"How dare you talk to your mother like that," Father snapped, his grey eyes cold. "Apologise."

"No." My mother slapped my cheek, her blue eyes cold.

"Insolent girl! After all we've done for you!"

"After all what, Mother? Not loving me? Ignoring me when I was hurt? Ensuring I had no friends? Yes, Mother, thank you for all you've done. I'm eternally grateful," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm and hatred.

"Henrietta Helena Hawthorne! We are going, _now_," Mother said.

"She's already told you, she's not going with you," Lizzie said, her voice was just _layered_ in hate.

"Elizabeth," Lily said sharply. My parents finally seemed to notice her.

"Who are _you_?" Father asked coolly.

"Lily Potter, Elizabeth's mother," Lily answered coldly, "and you are?"

"Joseph Hawthorne, and this is my wife, Ariella, we're Henrietta's parents," Father answered. He caught sight of our entourage. "Are all those kids yours?"

Why the hell does he care? "No," Lily answered. "Just the black-haired boy, and the two youngest girls. The rest are friends. And no, the black-haired man is _not _my husband. My husband was murdered nine years ago."

"Henrietta, we are leaving now, and you are coming," Mother said yet again.

"Haven't you been listening to your daughter? She doesn't want to go with you, and quite frankly, I don't blame her," Lily said. "Who would want to go where they are insulted day and night?"

Mother did the unthinkable. She slapped Lily hard enough that the force knocked Lily to the ground.

"Mum!" Lizzie cried, rushing over.

"Lily!" I cried, copying Lizzie.

"How dare you insult us like that?" Mother's voice shook with rage. "We would never, ever insult Henrietta. She's our daughter, we love her."

"Oh, give it a rest, Mother. They know everything," I snapped as Lizzie and I helped Lily to her feet. My mother had left her handprint on Lily's cheek. Everyone else had rushed over when Lily had been slapped, we now had back-up.

"You hate me for what I am," I stated simply. "I could have _died _this year, and you probably wouldn't have come and claim my body."

"Yes, yes, all right," Mother said. "We _loathe_ you."

"How could you hate your _daughter_ for who she is? She can't help it. I had Mug– non-magical parents, and they still loved me. Same with Hermione," Lily said, indicating Hermione. Mother and Father didn't speak.

"Back to the initial point, she is not going with _you_," Lily said.

"Nonsense, where would she live? No one will take her in," Father said. He thinks that if you're not a CEO, you must be poor, and no one would ever want another mouth to feed.

"We will," Fred and George answered, while Ron and Ginny nodded.

"So will we," Rhiannon replied. Sirius squeezed her shoulder.

"And so will we," Lizzie answered, while her siblings nodded.

"That's settled then," Lily said. "_Henri_'s coming with us."

"You see, Mother," I said, grinning, "my friends love me more than you ever will."

I led the way into the Muggle world. This summer would most definitely be the best.

* * *

**Author's Note: Henri's parents are quite nasty, don't you think? This is the only time we will **_**ever**_** meet Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne. This it for COS, next is a chapter on POA, and then we start on the GOF, which I've been looking forward to writing. Please review.**


	17. Chapter 17: Second Year

**This chapter is dedicated to iluvwriting and JediMasterMiraxHorn who helped me out when my brain gave up on me. Hope you guys like this chapter. **

**Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, and all things related, why would I be writing on here?**

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen  
Second Year**

_From the diary of_  
_Henri Hawthorne  
September 1, 1993  
The Leaky Cauldron  
Very early in the morning_

_**I'm writing this at one o'clock in the morning. I should really go to bed, as I have to wake up at seven. Lily tried to talk Mrs. Weasley into letting us sleep until eight, but to no avail. **_

_**Anyway, ever since the end of the year, I've been living with the Potters. I even get my own room. Lizzie kept it a secret the whole school year, well, after I was attacked, it wouldn't have been too hard.  
I'm lucky I've met Lizzie. Though, Mrs. Weasley probably would've taken me in.  
It's been so much fun. Harry, Lizzie, Rhiannon, and Sirius have been teaching me how to play Quidditch. Lizzie's an awesome Seeker, and I'm an awesome Chaser. And I'm learning so much about the wizarding world. Mainly how the average wizarding family spends its day. It's not much different than Muggles, with the exception of no electricity.  
One thing I learned is the evenings are spent with arguments. About Quidditch. Everyone in this household supports different Quidditch teams. Harry and Lizzie's arguments are the worse, because they support rival teams– Lizzie supports the Appleby Arrows, and Harry supports the Wimbourne Wasps. Sarah supports the Tutshill Tornados, and Emma the Falmouth Falcons. Rhiannon supports the Caerphilly Catapults, and Sirius Puddlemere United. So, when Sirius and Rhiannon are here, it gets very, very, loud. I now support the Montrose Magpies.  
On my first day here, Lizzie showed me the house where her dad died. There's a sign that the Ministry put there, explaining why the house is still ruined. Lots of people had signed it. I had found a message from Lizzie, Lily, Rhiannon, Sarah, Emma, Sirius, and Remus. Lizzie said there would be one day when Harry would need encouraging messages from family, and handed me a permanent marker.  
"But I'm not family," I had protested.  
"Don't let Mum hear you say that," Lizzie had said.  
So, now I'm an adopted member of the Potter family. When I mention something Muggle, I don't get funny looks, because Lily is Muggle-born. They may not have been raised Muggle, but Lily did do Muggle things with them. Like go the cinema, or go see a football game. It's nice. I used to freeze preparing to explain what I meant, but I was never greeted with four perplexed faces.  
Also, with living in the wizarding world, I get to learn the history of Voldemort. Which explains what I'm about to write next.  
The very first person to break from Azkaban, is a Death Eater. Peter Pettigrew. He's responsible for the death of James Potter, and so many others who were on our side. There're going to be Dementors guarding the school. I've been told that Dementors suck the happiness out of life, and that you relive your worst moments. I do not envy Lizzie and Rhiannon, both of whom saw/heard a parent die. I wonder what the Dementors would make me relive? Not that I really want to know, I'm just curious. Some people are convinced that Lily doesn't care about Harry, because she's letting him go to the all-wizard village, Hogsmeade. I see Lily's reasoning. The Dementors are guarding the school, and why would an escaped prisoner step into broad daylight, in an all-magic village? **_

**_When I first came here, I was a little apprehensive. In my __house__, in my _family_, I was ignored by everyone, but Danny and Jo. I never known love beyond brother and sister, and even then my brother and sister had to ignore me when my parents were around. If I hurt myself, my brother and sister had to ignore me, if I achieved something, I was ignored. Danny told me I took my first step with our babysitter, and when she told Mother and Father, they didn't even look impressed. Same with any of my firsts. And when I was five, we (Jo and I, because Danny would've been too old) had a new babysitter in the summer, but the day before a pot of boiling water landed on my foot, and as usual, I was ignored. So, I had a third-degree burn, untreated. My babysitter brought me to her mother, who asked me if I could keep a secret. I said yes. But anyway, I'm getting off topic. _**

**_There's so much _love_. Harry and Lizzie act more like brothers than brother and sister. They arm-wrestle (unless Harry is letting Lizzie win, which I doubt, Lizzie is strong), they play-fight, and they pull pranks on each other (Lizzie's are more clever). Sarah and Emma look up to Lizzie and Harry. They're not annoying like you expect younger siblings to be. When Sirius and Rhiannon come over, Harry, Lizzie, Rhiannon, _and_ Sirius end up play-fighting. Lily says Sirius is just as bad as us kids, I think it's funny. My father wouldn't do that, even at gunpoint. He never did anything with us._**

**_I'm glad they all stood up for me at King's Cross in June. I never felt more wanted in my life. I still can't believe my parents had the nerve to show up, _and_ that they knew how to get on the platform. I couldn't figure that out. Until Ginny wrote. My _mother_ asked Mrs. Weasley how to get on the platform. Ooh, it's a good thing Mrs. Weasley didn't know who she was talking to. Though that is something I would have loved to see. Jo wrote to me. She says Mother's acting like I never existed. When the neighbours asked where I was, she apparently replied, very stiffly, "She is living with a distant relative now, because it is closer to her school." _**

_**Strange thing is, it doesn't bother me that my parents are denying my existence. In my eyes, Lily is my mother. She's done more for me than my biological parents ever have. I actually received help with my homework. When it was my Muggle homework, I couldn't ask for help. My mother and father would say I was stupid if I needed help for something so easy. So, at an early age, I learned my parents didn't want me nor did they love me. I never knew why until McGonagall came. I don't understand how my parents knew there was something 'wrong' with me. Danny said they just knew I was 'different' and they didn't like it. Apparently, they told my brother and sister I'm an 'unholy abomination' and my name is to never be mentioned again. Danny thinks one day, they will fake my death, seeing as I'm dead to them, and my family won't get suspicious when I never return home. Good riddance. The only family members I love are my brother and sister because they accept me for who I am.**_

_**Holy Cricket! It's two o'clock in the morning. I should really be going to bed. Nighty-night. **_

_**P.S. Sorry about it jumping all over the place.**_

* * *

_From the diary of  
__Lizzie Potter  
__December 25, 1993_

_**The last few months have been quite eventful. First, Henri now lives with us. Second, Peter Pettigrew escaped from Azkaban. Third, Dementors now guard the school. Fourth, Harry's Nimbus Two Thousand was smashed to bits after the last Quidditch match. Did I mention Remus is now our Defence Against the Dark Arts professor?**_

_**Let me explain about Peter Pettigrew. At school, he was a friend of my dad. He was also our Secret Keeper. See, Mum and Dad knew Voldemort was after them. So, Dumbledore told them their best bet was the Fidelius Charm. The whole point is you choose one person to be your Secret Keeper, and they keep your address secret, and only they can tell people where you live. So Voldemort could've been looking right in our window, and wouldn't have saw us. At first, Sirius was our Secret Keeper, but sometime after Rhiannon was born, and sometime before I was born, they changed the Secret Keeper to Pettigrew. He kept it safe for two years. Apparently, he gave Sarah the vanishing sickness, and was hoping I would catch it. He was hoping to lure Dad out to St. Mungo's. He thought Dad would go because (a) he was the pure-blood, and would be safer, and (b) I was Dad's favourite (Mum said he spoiled me). But of course, I didn't get sick, just Sarah, and it was Mum, not Dad, who took her to the hospital. Everyone thinks Pettigrew is coming up here to murder Harry. I also asked Dumbledore why Voldemort didn't murder me, before he went to Harry's room. Voldemort doesn't know about us (me, Sarah, and Emmy) he said. So until someone tells him there're three Potter girls, we're safe.**_

_**Anyways, with Dementors guarding the school, it's not nice for Harry, Rhiannon, and me. The only three people to witness (or hear) a parent murdered. So, Remus said he'll teach us the only defence against Dementors, the Patronus Charm. Only problem is, it's really advanced magic, beyond O.W.L. But we are determined.**_

**_Third order of business, Harry received a _Firebolt_ for Christmas from Sirius. Rhiannon and I are extremely jealous. We both wrote a letter this morning saying we should have one too. We doubt it'll make a difference. Harry promised both of us can have a go on it after his next Quidditch practise._**

**_About Henri living with us, Harry, Rhiannon, Sirius, and I have been teaching her how to play Quidditch. We discovered she's a decent Chaser. She later told us she used to play football _(A/N: soccer)_, and she was a forward._**

_**Speaking of Quidditch, it's the Quidditch World Cup this summer! I asked Mum about it, and she said maybe, which means we'll probably end up going with Sirius and Remus. Which would be awesome. Mum's taken us to League games; she tries to avoid Arrows and Wasps games, usually 'cause me and Harry end up doing nothing but argue. That, and she can't sit with the both us. You don't want to be a Wasps fan among Arrows fans or vice versa. She usually gets Sirius to go. I can't wait until the summer! Everyone is hoping Britain will make to the finals. **_

**_I should explain how Harry's Nimbus Two Thousand was smashed to bits. It was the first Quidditch match of the season. Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff because Malfoy chickened out (I'll explain in a second). It was pouring rain there's thunder and lighting, Gryffindor's fifty points ahead, when _they _came. The Dementors. Harry passed out again. His broom blew away before anyone had a chance to grab it. It met the Whomping Willow. The Whomping Willow wasn't pleased. Professor Flitwick brought Harry the splintered remains. Dumbledore was furious._**

_**On the Hogwarts Express, the Dementors searched the train for Pettigrew. The trained had stopped, and the lamps had gone out. Ginny left to go find Ron. They checked every compartment. It was very cold, and it felt as if the happiness had been sucked out of the air, and then I'd never be happy again. It was horrible. I could hear Dad's death in my head. I could see Rhiannon shaking, but I could feel my consciousness slipping. I remember being awoken by Remus.**_

_**"Lizzie! Elizabeth!" My eyes flickered open.**_

_**"Re- Remus?" I asked surprised. He and Henri helped me back into my seat. I realised I was shaking. Rhiannon was still on the floor, her eyes still closed.**_

_**"Rhiannon!" Remus said, her eyes fluttered open. **_

_**"Ugh… what happened?" she asked.**_

_**"Dementors," Remus answered grimly, handing us each chocolate.**_

_**Rhiannon and I had eaten ours with shaking hands. For the rest of the way, I sat with my head on the window, and Rhiannon had her head on my shoulder; she was crying.**_

_**Ginny (who had come back with Remus) and Henri hadn't known what to say, and left us alone. Fred and George had come by to see if we were all right, and attempted to make us laugh, but to no avail. **_

_**I have happier things to write about though. Hagrid's now a teacher. He teaches Care of Magical Creatures. For his first lesson (it was Harry's class), he brought Hippogriffs. From what I gather, Malfoy wasn't paying attention. The first thing you need to know about Hippogriffs, is to never insult them. They're proud. So Malfoy insulted a Hippogriff. It attacked him. He had a gash in his arm. Buckbeak –the Hippogriff– now has to go to a hearing. Poor Hagrid.**_

**_Hallowe'en was most interesting. Pettigrew attacked the Fat Lady. She wouldn't let him into the common room. We came back after the Hallowe'en feast, only to find that the Fat Lady's portrait had been slashed. We had to spend the night in the Great Hall. Now we have to put up with Sir Cadogan until the Fat Lady is restored, and Sir Cadogan is mad. Changes the password twice a day, challenges us to duels, and the passwords themselves are ridiculous! 'Course, no one is exactly positive on _how_ Pettigrew got in. Probably got pass the Dementors the same way he got out of Azkaban. Snape thinks Remus is helping Pettigrew. That is utterly preposterous. Why would Remus help the man who is responsible for the death of one of his best friends, and almost responsible for the death of Harry? I wouldn't, and neither would Remus. But it was kinda cool, sleeping in the Great Hall. It was like a massive sleepover outdoors, thanks to the enchanted ceiling. But now Harry is banned from Hogsmeade._**

_**My brother, is an idiot. Yes, the famous Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, is an idiot. He and Ron were badmouthing Snape, when Snape was right behind them! They didn't even check to see who it was, they just kept on going. They got a month's detention.**_

**_Sarah started this year. She's a Gryffindor. Big surprise. Apart from the Dementors, she likes it here. Well, who wouldn't? She made friends real easy. They're nice. They don't hang out with her, just 'cause her last name is Potter. Actually, I'm pretty sure not a lot of people are aware Harry has _three _sisters. She's a little homesick, so she went home for Christmas. Actually, mostly everyone did. There were only fifteen people when we went down for lunch. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, Flitwick, Filch, two first-years, a fifth-year, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Rhiannon, Henri, and me. We all sat at one table. Kind of odd. Professor Trelawney (the Divination professor) even joined us. She and McGonagall DO NOT get along. Remus was ill. Something fishy is going on there. He was ill last month, and we ended up with Snape teaching us. Ugh, it was horrible. He was really nasty– I mean, nastier than usual. He said Remus is a horrible teacher. And that we're really behind._**

_**I should be going to bed. **_

_**G'night.**_

* * *

_From the diary of  
__Rhiannon Black  
__June 7, 1994  
__Very early in the morning_

**_My dad is an Animagus! _My_ dad is an Animagus! And Remus is a werewolf! How could they not tell us?! James was an Animagus too! My dad transforms into a big, black dog! Why the _hell_ didn't they tell us? Okay, I should back up a bit._**

**_Hagrid's Hippogriff –Buckbeak– lost his hearing way back in April. This afternoon was his appeal. He lost. At sunset he was to be executed. Shortly after Hallowe'en, Ron found this rat with a missing toe, he seemed old for a rat. Ron called him Scabbers. Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, _always_ went after Scabbers. One day, Scabbers went missing. We all presumed he had been eaten, because Ron found blood on his sheets, and clump of orange cat fur. Ron and Hermione didn't talk for _ages_. Oh, and Harry had thought he was seeing the Grim. Anyway, 'round sunset, Harry, Ron, and Hermione went to visit Hagrid before Buckbeak was executed. Hagrid broke a milk jug, and when Hermione was about to pour milk into the new one, she found Scabbers. They had to leave, because Dumbledore, Fudge, the executioner, and someone else were on their way. While they were heading back up to the school, Scabbers wouldn't stay still– kept trying to escape. Crookshanks had shown up, followed by Dad. Dad knocked Harry off his feet, before he could do anything, then he turned to Ron, who had Scabbers in his pocket. Dad grabbed Ron's arm, and dragged him towards the Whomping Willow. Harry tried to stop Dad, but he failed. The Whomping Willow hit Harry, and knocked him aside. It hit Hermione too. Dad had dragged Ron through a gap in the trunk. Ron, in order to prevent himself from going through, had hooked his foot around a root. Well, Dad kept pulling, and Ron's leg broke. Crookshanks knew how to stop the Whomping Willow– you press this knot, and the tree stops attacking. Harry and Hermione followed Crookshanks into the Whomping Willow. The tunnel led them to the Shrieking Shack. Where they found my dad (human, now), and Ron. While Harry spent a good five minutes yelling at Dad, someone else came into the Shrieking Shack. It was Remus. He and Dad explained how the rat Ron had found is an Animagus– Peter Pettigrew. And how they came to be Animagi, but Snape walked in. Harry, Ron, and Hermione Disarmed him at the exact same time. Snape became unconscious. Serves him right. They forced Pettigrew into his human form, and talked to him. Dad and Remus almost became murderers, but Harry stopped them, said Pettigrew could go to Dementors. Only problem, it was a full moon. Remus hadn't taken the Wolfsbane Potion (which makes him safe). He began to transform, and Dad had to chase after him to give Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Pettigrew a chance to make it to the castle. Didn't happen. Pettigrew changed back into a rat, and Dad chased after him. Pettigrew had cursed Ron. Harry chased after Dad, because he was howling in pain. Hermione followed. They found Dad at the lake surrounded by hundreds of Dementors. They had come for Pettigrew but he was gone, and Dad was still there. He was weak from his fight with Remus, and couldn't conjure a Patronus. Harry tried, and Hermione tried, but they couldn't do it. Someone else did though; someone saved them from the Dementor's Kiss.. Harry thought it was James, Lily, and my mother, Melody. It was really him, Lizzie, and me. He just mistook us for our look-alikes, 'cause we were on the other side of the lake. Now to explain that._**

_**Hermione took way too many classes to be squished into her timetable. So, McGonagall wrote to the Ministry to get her a Time-Turner. Very late yesterday, Dumbledore asked McGonagall to bring Lizzie and me to his office. Along with Harry and Hermione, we travelled three hours back in time. We rescued Buckbeak, brought him to Dad, who flew off with him. Hagrid has no idea. And now me, Liz, and Harry can conjure Patronuses. Remus is very happy, and very proud of us.**_

_**I got into a row with Dad. The first one ever. Minutes before I time-travelled.**_

_**"Why did you never tell me?" I asked quietly.**_

_**"You didn't need to know," he answered. **_

**_"'I didn't need to know'? My dad is an Animagus, and 'I didn't _need to know'_?"_**

_**"No, you didn't."**_

_**"How about Remus then? How could you not tell me there's a werewolf living with us?! Hang on a minute, you always sent me to Lily's when there was a full moon, so I'd never be in any danger!"**_

_**"I was going to tell you about Remus when you were fifteen," Dad said quietly.**_

_**"Why fifteen? You know what, never mind. Why were you at Hogwarts in the first place?"**_

_**"Keeping guard, looking for Wormtail."**_

_**"Wait… you were here protecting me, Harry, Lizzie, Sarah, and Remus? Are you mad? What you did tonight, was completely mad! What were you thinking?"**_

_**"You sound like your mother," he said quietly.**_

_**"Did Mum know?"**_

_**"Did she know what?"**_

_**"Don't play stupid with me, you know exactly what," I snapped.**_

_**"What does it matter if Melody knew or not?"**_

_**"Answer me, Dad."**_

_**"Yeah, she knew. 'Course she knew, married me didn't she?"**_

_**"She must've been completely mental to do so," I mused.**_

_**"Yeah, yeah she was," he said sadly.**_

_**"What animal was James?"**_

_**"A stag."**_

_**"Wonder if I'll find anyone mad enough to marry me," I said wonderingly.**_

_**"You had better find someone normal," Dad warned.**_

_**"No, he'll have to be mental to stick around after he's met you, and Remus," I said. "And the rest of my family."**_

_**"That's not nice, Rhee," Dad said, feigning hurt.**_

_**"Ah, but it's true," I said. "And don't worry, I'm only thirteen. Love is a long way away from me."**_

_**Okay, so it wasn't really a row, but the first time I ever yelled at him. Onto happier things like…**_

**_GRYFFINDOR WON THE QUIDDITCH CUP! TWO HUNDRED AND THIRTY TO TWENTY! It was the nastiest match ever. Lots of cursing said over the megaphone. Most fouls I've ever seen in a Hogwarts match. Harry had to clear the way for Angelina because the whole team (besides Malfoy) was going to block her way, and Harry streaked towards them and they scattered. Right after the match, every Gryffindor –and I mean _every _Gryffindor– headed towards the team. The team was hoisted onto their shoulders. McGonagall was crying, Oliver Wood was crying. Me, Lizzie, and Sarah couldn't speak. Percy was jumping up and down. The supporters carried the team to Dumbledore to receive the Quidditch Cup. But the important thing is… WE BEAT SLYTHERIN, WE BEAT SLYTHERIN! I mean, we always do, but victory never tasted so sweet as it did then. Maybe 'cause we were convinced Buckbeak was going to die._**

_**Liz and I are cross with Harry. He has this Map. It's called the Marauder's Map. It was written by Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs… aka… **_

_**Remus, Pettigrew, Dad, and James. It was confiscated by Filch years ago, and Fred and George nicked it in their first year, and gave it to Harry the day of the second Hogsmeade trip. Remus confiscated it the day of the third, because Malfoy saw Harry.**_

_**Merlin, I'm tired. I'm going to bed now. Here I was thinking I'd only write in this thing once.**_

_**Night.**_


	18. Chapter 18: Invitation and The Burrow

****

Disclaimer: Never have, never will.

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen  
****Invitation and The Burrow**

_Lizzie's POV  
__August 20, 1994_

Pettigrew's still on the loose.

But let's talk about happy things. For starters, this summer is the Quidditch World Cup! Mr. Weasley said he'll try to get tickets for _all of us_, including Mum, Sarah, Emma-Lynn, Henri, and me. I can't wait!

"Mum!" Harry shouted suddenly. "Mum! We're going to the Quidditch World Cup!" Henri and I burst out of my room.

"Really?!" I asked.

"Yes, really," he said as he thundered down the stairs, Henri and I followed. We burst into the kitchen. Mum, Sarah, and Emma were in there finishing breakfast.

"Mum! We're–" Harry began, but Mum held up her hand.

"I'm not deaf, Harry, let me see the letter," Mum said holding her hand out. He gave her the letter.

"When are we going?" Emmy asked.

"Tomorrow, at five, by Floo Powder," Mum answered. "Mr. Weasley, the twins, and Ron are coming to help. Right then, I want all of you to go pack. Harry, Henri, and Lizzie, pack your trunks. Sarah and Emma, pack your rucksacks to last a week."

"What does the letter say?" I asked. Mum picked it up, and read aloud:

'_Dear Lily, Harry, Lizzie, Henri, Sarah, and Emma-Lynn,_

_As I'm sure you know, the final of the Quidditch World Cup is Monday night. Arthur has just managed to get prime tickets through his connections at the Department of Magical Games and Sports. We would be glad, of course, to have Harry, Lizzie, and Henri stay for the remainder of the school holidays._

_Do not worry about a tent, Arthur has managed to borrow a couple from a colleague at the Ministry. Arthur, Fred, George, and Ron will come around five o'clock Sunday to help with the trunks, and rucksacks._

_Hoping to see you all soon,_

_Yours sincerely,_

_Molly Weasley_

"Who's the match between again?" Sarah asked.

"Bulgaria and Ireland," Harry, Henri, and I answered simultaneously.

We all left the kitchen as Mum wrote an answer to Mrs. Weasley. We headed upstairs, and into our respective bedrooms. Mine was a tad cluttered. Books were strewn from one end of my bed to the other. I have a double-sized bed, but I only sleep on one end. There was a big, red teddy bear opposite from where I sleep. My desk had empty inkpots, quills, and parchment. My dresser had a dozen or so pictures on it. All moving, of course. A few were family pictures from Christmas and Easter when I was about nine. Some were my friends and me. Another was a picture of me and Rhiannon taken just last year. My walls were the same colour as the Gryffindor Quidditch robes, and plastered with posters and pictures. I had a poster of the Appleby Arrows. I had a couple of posters of my favourite players. A Gryffindor banner, and flag. A poster of a dragon, a Firebolt, some magical creatures. A calendar, and a wardrobe with Artemis's cage on top. Mum had charmed the paint in our rooms, so we could change the colour whenever we wanted just by thinking about it. It sort of freaked out Henri when she first came here. When she first came here, my room was dark red, and I decided at that moment to change it to scarlet, and the colour changed. She just stared in shock. I told her she might want to do that with her room since it was painted pastel blue.

First thing I noticed was Rhiannon's owl, Mercury, was perched on top of Artemis's cage.

"C'mere, you daft owl, so I can untie the letter from your leg," I called to him. He flew down and landed on my shoulder. I untied the letter. "You stay put, because you're going to have to bring her the answer."

The letter read:

_Liz–_

_Dad wants to know if you're coming to the World Cup with us, he needs to know ASAP 'cause he's buying the tickets tonight. Are you going with the Weasleys or not? If you're going with the Weasleys, I'll still see you there, right?_

–_Rhiannon_

I sighed. I found some parchment, a quill, and some ink.

_Rhee–_

_Why doesn't Sirius just ask Mr. Weasley himself? They _do_ work in the same place after all. And why're you asking me, and not Mum? _

_Sorry, Rhee. Really I am, but we're going with the Weasleys. They already got us tickets. Maybe you can stay the rest of the summer there, eh? Me, Henri, and Harry are staying with the Weasleys for the last little bit of summer holidays. I'll ask Mrs. Weasley tomorrow, and let you know Monday. I'll most definitely see you there._

_Sorry._

–_Lizzie_

I rolled it up, and tied it to Mercury's leg. He flew out my open window just as Artemis flew in.

"I'm sorry, Art, but you're going to have to go in your cage. We're leaving tomorrow."

I swear, owls are really smart creatures. Artemis flew in into her cage. I closed it. I dragged my trunk into the middle of the floor, and began retrieving stuff from all over my room, and tossing it into the trunk, not neatly. I set aside my rucksack, and threw some jimjams in, along with some clothes. By the time lunch came around, we were all ready.

* * *

_Lizzie's POV  
August 21, 1994  
Five o'clock_

Ever since noon, we've all been bored. Mum kicked us all out of the house. We went to the playground for a bit. Even then we were bored. So, we went back home around three. Mum sent us straight to our bedrooms. At quarter to five, she called us downstairs again, and told us to bring our rucksacks down with us. We were just about to go get our trunks, when Mr. Weasley arrived. "Ah, hello, Lily," Mr. Weasley greeted. "Hi, Harry, Lizzie, Sarah, Emma-Lynn, and Henri."

"Hi," we chorused.

"All ready then?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Just have to bring Harry, Lizzie, and Henri's trunks down from upstairs," Mum replied. "We were just going to get them when you arrived."

"Ah, well," Mr. Weasley said, "the boys can help when they arrive."

Just then, Fred arrived, followed by George.

"Hello," they said.

"Hey," we returned as Ron came out of the fireplace.

"Good, good," Mr. Weasley said. "Right, Ron, you can help Harry with his trunk, Fred, you can help Henri with hers, and George can help you, Lizzie."

The six of us left the living room. Henri and I led the way to our rooms with Fred and George following behind us. I opened the door to my room as Harry and Ron walked past us to his room. I entered my room and was in the middle of it before I noticed I was alone. I turned to face the doorway, George still stood there.

"You _can_ come in, you know," I said.

"Well, you're a _girl_," he said as if that explained everything. Yes, because it would be odd for a sixteen-year-old boy to enter a twelve-year-old girl's room, even if they're friends.

"Do I _look _like my room would be girly?" I asked. He shook his head. "Well, come in then."

He came in, and stopped to look around. "Whoa," he said.

"Not what you were expecting, was it?" I asked innocently.

"So, you like the Appleby Arrows?" he asked.

"Uh, obviously," I answered. "Harry's favourite is the Wimbourne Wasps. We get into really nasty arguments sometimes."

"Yeah, Ron's favourite team is the Chudley Cannons," George said in an offhand way.

"The _Chudley Cannons_?" I snorted. "Worst team in the League? You'd have to _mad _to support them. Come on, we're probably the only two not down there."

He walked over to where I was standing, we both crouched down, and grabbed the trunk.

"On the count of three?" he asked. I nodded. "One. Two. Three!"

We stood up again, and immediately fell over again. I cracked up laughing, and George did too.

"Ready to try again?" I asked when I had finally stopped laughing. He nodded, we stood up, and grabbed the trunk again.

"Got it?" I asked.

"Yeah, you?"

"Yup. One, two, three!" We stood up again, and waited a couple of seconds. We didn't fall over.

"Success!" I nearly shouted. We navigated out of the room, and towards the stairs.

"Ready?" George asked for I was the one who had to go down the stairs backwards. I nodded. "You sure you don't want me to go first?"

"I'm fine," I replied, and began to go downstairs. We were indeed the last to arrive in the sitting room.

"We were just about to send a search party to find you," Henri said the moment we entered. "Did you get lost?"

"Yeah, we took a wrong turn at the bathroom," I answered.

"We're all ready then?" Mr. Weasley asked again. We all nodded. "Right, Fred, you and Henri's trunk first."

Mum pointed her wand at the fireplace and said, "_Incendio_!" Flames sprung to life. "The pot's right there, Fred."

He grabbed a handful of Floo powder, and threw it into the fire. They turned green, and roared higher. George helped Fred heave Henri's trunk into the fire.

"The Burrow!" Fred shouted. He disappeared.

"George, you and Lizzie's trunk," Mr. Weasley said. I helped George drag my trunk into the flames.

"The Burrow!" He vanished too.

"Ron, you and Harry's trunk next."

Harry helped Ron put his trunk in the fire, and with a shout of, "The Burrow!" Ron disappeared too.

"Harry, you next." Harry stepped into the flames, took off his rucksack Mum had made us all pack the night before, gripped it in his hand, and shouted, "The Burrow!"

"You're next, Lizzie."

Mimicking Harry, I stepped into the flames that were pleasantly warm, and took off my rucksack. "The Burrow!" I shouted. The living room whipped out of sight as I began to spin very fast. _I really do hate the Floo Network_, I thought as dozens of fireplaces whizzed by.

Eventually, I began to slow down, and finally, stop. George pulled me to my feet. We were in the Weasleys tiny kitchen. I looked around. Harry, Ron, and Fred were sitting at the wooden table with two red-haired people I've never seen before, but I knew they must be the eldest two Weasley brothers: Bill and Charlie.

"Welcome to The Burrow," George said brightly.

"How're you doing, Elizabeth?" said the nearer of the two, holding out a hand, which I shook. I could feel calluses and blisters underneath my fingers. This must be Charlie, the one who works with dragons. He was built like the twins, shorter and stockier than Ron and Percy. He had a good-natured face, which was weather-beaten and so freckly that he almost looked tanned; his arms were muscular, and one of them had a large, shiny burn on it.

"It's Lizzie," I replied as Bill got to his feet, smiling, and also shook my hand. From what Ginny had told me, I knew Bill worked for Gringotts, and had been Head Boy at Hogwarts. So, I always assumed Bill would be an older version of Percy, but I was surprised. Bill is –there's no other word for it– _cool_. He was tall, his red hair was long, and tied into a ponytail. He was wearing an earring with what looked like a fang dangling from it. His clothes would not be out of place at a Muggle rock concert except that his boots were made of dragon hide, not leather. I looked behind me to see Henri had arrived. She walked over here, and introduced herself to Bill and Charlie. I backed away from the table as Sarah arrived. Emma came out after her, followed by Mum, and Mr. Weasley appeared right behind Mum. The kitchen was too small to hold all of us.

Mum walked over to the table to introduce herself to Bill and Charlie.

"How are you doing, Mrs. Potter?" Charlie asked politely, while shaking Mum's hand.

"Please, it's Lily," Mum answered with a smile as she moved to shake Bill's hand.

"Ah, good everyone's here." Mrs. Weasley had entered the tiny kitchen. She was a short, plump, kind-faced woman. Two girls appeared behind her. One with bushy brown hair, it was one of Harry's best friends, Hermione. The other, was small and red-haired, Ginny. Both of them smiled when saw they all of us. When Harry smiled, it caused Ginny to go scarlet– she sort of has a crush on Harry. Mrs. Weasley looked behind her.

"Ginny, why don't you show Lizzie and Henri where they will be sleeping?"

Ginny nodded. She beckoned us to follow her. Henri and I attempted to drag our trunks with us.

"Don't worry about your trunks, I'll bring them up later," Mrs. Weasley said. We followed Ginny out of the kitchen, down a little hallway, and up the rickety stairs.

"Ginny, is your house big enough to fit sixteen people?" I asked.

"Probably not," she replied. "Bill and Charlie are in Fred and George's room, Fred, George, and Harry will be in Ron's room. Percy gets his own room, because he's got to work. Hermione will be bunking with us in my room. Your mum and younger sisters will be sleeping in the sitting room, your mum on the sofa, and your sisters on the floor in sleeping bags. Here we are."

We were on the third landing, and Ginny opened the door. Her room was small, but bright. There was a poster of the Weird Sisters on one wall, and Gwenog Jones, captain of the Holyhead Harpies on the other. There was a desk facing the window, and three camp beds had been crammed in it.

"It's not very big, and we'll be a bit crammed, but…" Ginny's voice trailed off.

"It's brilliant," Henri said. "My room with my parents was only big enough to have a bed and a dresser."

"Okay, there're two things you do not do," Ginny said. "One, do _not_ mention anything relating to Percy's work while you are here, or you'll be bored out of your mind, and two, do _not _mention Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes while you're in front of Mum."

"What are _Weasleys_' _Wizard Wheezes_?" I asked.

"Mum found this stack of order forms when she was cleaning Fred and George's room," Ginny answered. "Long price-lists for stuff they've invented. Joke stuff. Fake wands and trick sweets, lots of stuff. It was brilliant, we never knew they'd been inventing all that…

"We've been hearing explosions out of their room for ages, but we never thought they were actually _making _things, we thought they just liked the noise. Most of the stuff –well, all of it, really– was a bit dangerous, and they were planning to sell it at Hogwarts to make some money, and Mum went mad. She told them they weren't allowed to make anymore of it, and burnt all the order forms… she's furious at them anyway, they didn't get as many O.W.Ls as she expected.

"And there was this big row, because Mum wants them to go into the Ministry of Magic like Dad, and they told her all they wanted to do is open a joke-shop."

"Shall we go help your mum with dinner?" Henri asked.

"Yeah, all right," Ginny said. "Just throw your rucksacks on the bed you'll be sleeping in."

We headed back downstairs, and into the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley was alone in the kitchen.

"We're eating out in the garden," she said when we came in. "There's just not room for sixteen people in here. Could you take the plates outside, girls? Bill and Charlie are setting up the tables. Knives and forks, please, you two," she added, for Harry, Ron, and Hermione had appeared behind us.

Us girls took four plates each, and headed outside. There was a loud crashing noise coming from the other side of the house. The source was revealed as we entered the garden. Bill and Charlie both had their wands out, and were making two battered old tables fly high above the lawn, both attempting to knock the other's out of the air. Fred and George were cheering; Sarah and Emma were laughing; Mum was torn between disapproval and amusement. Ginny began to laugh, Henri and joined in. Hermione was torn between amusement and anxiety.

"Oh, lighten up, Hermione," I said.

Just after Harry and Ron joined us, Bill's table caught Charlie's with a loud bang, and knocked one of its legs off. There was a clatter above us, and we all looked up to see Percy's head poking out of a window on the second floor.

"Will you keep it down?" he bellowed.

"Sorry, Perce," Bill said, grinning. "How're the cauldron bottoms coming on?"

"Very badly," Percy said crossly, and he slammed the window shut again. Chuckling, Bill and Charlie directed the tables safely on the ground, end to end, and then, with a flick of his wand, Bill reattached the table leg, and conjured tablecloths out of nowhere.

By seven o'clock, the tables were laden down with dishes of Mrs. Weasley's cooking. Henri sat next to Charlie, and I sat next to her; across from us were Fred and George. I just listened to the conversations occurring all around me as I helped myself to food. At one end of the table, Percy was discussing his report on cauldron bottoms with his father. Here's a sample of how dull it is:

"I've told Mr. Crouch that I'll have it ready by Tuesday," Percy said pompously. "That's a bit sooner than he expected it, but I like to keep on top of things. I think he'll be grateful I've done it in good time. I mean, it's extremely busy in our department just now, what with all the arrangements for the World Cup. We're just not getting the support we need from the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Ludo Bagman–"

"I like Ludo," Mr. Weasley said placidly. "He was the one who got us such good tickets for the Cup. I did him a bit of a favour: his brother, Otto, got into a spot of trouble –a lawnmower with unnatural powers– I smoothed the whole thing over."

"Oh, Bagman's _likeable_ enough, of course," Percy said dismissively, "but how he ever got to be Head of Department… when I compare him to Mr. Crouch! I can't see Mr. Crouch losing a member of our department and not trying to find out what's happened to them. You realise Bertha Jorkins has been missing for over a month now? Went on holiday to Albania and never came back?"

"Yes, I was asking Ludo about that," Mr. Weasley said, frowning. "He says Bertha's got lost plenty of times before now– though I must say, if it was someone in my department, I'd be worried…"

"I knew Bertha at school," Mum added in. "Sirius said Bagman says Bertha's memory is horrible, but when I knew her, it was quite the opposite, but she was always a bit dim."

"Oh, Bertha's _hopeless_, all right," Percy continued. "I hear she's been shunted from department to department for years, much more trouble than she's worth… but all the same, Bagman ought to be trying to find her. Mr. Crouch has been taking a personal interest –she worked in our department at one time, you know, and I think Mr. Crouch was quite fond of her– but Bagman just keeps laughing and saying she probably misread the map and ended up in Australia instead of Albania. However," Percy heaved an impressive sigh, and took a deep swig of elderflower wine, "we've got quite enough on our plates at the Department of International Magical Co-operation without trying to find members of other departments too. As you know, we've got another big event to organise right after the World Cup."

He cleared his throat significantly, and towards the other end of the table where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting. "_You_ know the one I'm talking about, Father." He raised his voice slightly. "The top-secret one."

"He's been trying to get us to ask what that event is ever since he started work," Fred explained to me and Henri.

Not too far from where I was sitting, Mrs. Weasley was arguing with Bill about his earring, which he seemed to have acquired recently.

"…with a horrible great fang on it, really, Bill, what do they say at the bank?"

"Mum, no one at the bank gives a damn how I dress as long as I bring home plenty of treasure," Bill said patiently.

"And your hair's getting silly, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, fingering her wand. "I wish you'd let me give it a trim…"

"I like it," Ginny said, she was sitting next to Bill. "You're so old-fashioned, Mum. Anyway, it's nowhere near as long as Professor Dumbledore's…"

I finally tuned into the conversation going on next to me. They were talking about the Quidditch World Cup.

"It's got to be Ireland," Charlie said through a mouthful of potato. "They flattened Peru in the semi-finals."

"Bulgaria have got Viktor Krum, though," Fred said.

"Krum's one decent player, Ireland have got seven," Charlie said brusquely. "I wish England had got through, though. That was embarrassing, that was."

I nodded. "Went down to Transylvania. Three hundred and ninety to ten."

"That was shocking," Henri added. "And Wales lost to Uganda, and Scotland were massacred by Luxembourg."

Mr. Weasley conjured up candles to light the darkening garden, before we had our pudding –home-made strawberry ice cream– and by the time we had finished, moths were fluttering over the table, and in the warm air, you could smell grass and honeysuckle. Several gnomes sprinted through the rose bushes, laughing madly as Crookshanks chased after them.

"Molly," Mum called across the table. "I was thinking, on the thirty-first, seeing as it's Liz's birthday, why don't you all come over for dinner, and the kids can spend the night. I have a minivan which can easily fit all of us, plus the trunks. Arthur was just telling me he might not be able to borrow Ministry cars."

"Would you have enough room?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Hermione and Ginny can share the guest room, Ron can bunk with Harry, and I can squeeze the twins in a spare room in the basement. You and Arthur can Floo or Apparate over in the morning just before we're ready to leave, and if Bill, Charlie, or Percy want to see everyone off, they're more than welcome too."

"That sounds all right," Mrs. Weasley said finally. "Are you sure you'll be able to handle them all?"

"If they don't behave, I know a few hexes and jinxes that should do the trick," Mum replied. She looked at Harry, then me, and Henri. "The five of you listen to Mr. Weasley tomorrow, and Lizzie, no sneaking off to find Rhiannon. I also need you to look after Sarah and Emma, make sure they dress like proper Muggles, and braid Emma's hair."

"'Kay," I replied.

"Look at the time," Mrs. Weasley said suddenly, checking her wristwatch. "You really should be in bed, the whole lot of you, you'll be up at the crack of dawn to get to the Cup. Harry, Lizzie, Henri, and Sarah–" Sarah jumped when Mrs. Weasley said her name, she'd been dozing off with her head on Mum's shoulder, and Emma's on hers. "–if you could leave your school lists out, I'll get your things for you tomorrow in Diagon Alley. I'm getting everyone else's. There might not be time after the World Cup, the match went on for five days last time."

"Wicked, hope it does this time!" Henri said enthusiastically.

"Well, I certainly don't," Percy said priggishly. "I _shudder_ to think what the state of my in-tray would be if I was away from work for five days."

"Yeah, someone might slip dragon dung in it again, eh, Perce?" Fred asked.

"That was a sample of fertiliser from Norway!" Percy said, his face turning bright red. "It was nothing _personal_!"

"It was," Fred whispered to Harry, Henri, and me, as we got up from the table. "We sent it."

* * *

**Author's Note: 'Prig' means **_**somebody who is regarded as taking pride in behaving in a very correct and proper way, and in feeling morally superior to others**_**. **


	19. Chapter 19: The Portkey

**Disclaimer: Only in my wildest dreams.**

**Chapter Nineteen  
The Portkey**

_Lizzie's POV__  
Three o'clock in the morning  
__The day of the World Cup_

Most kids like sleeping in. I am one of those kids, only it never happens for me. We're supposed to get up at the crack of dawn. What do I do? I wake up an hour earlier than I should. This happens when I'm excited or nervous. I looked at the bed across from me. Henri's already awake too.

"Let's go downstairs," I said, my voice barely a whisper. It's so quiet, she hears me anyway. She nodded. We quietly got dressed. I threw on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and my denim jacket. Henri wore her Weasley jumper and a pair of jeans. I grabbed my brush, and a hair elastic. We headed downstairs, into the kitchen, and were surprised to find Mrs. Weasley already awake.

"Good morning, Mrs. Weasley," Henri and I said, sitting down at the kitchen table. I handed Henri my brush and the elastic. She began brushing my hair.

"Goodness, you're up early," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Too excited to sleep," Henri said. "Braid or ponytail?"

"Braid, please," I replied. She finished brushing my hair, and began to braid it.

When Mrs. Weasley headed upstairs to wake everyone else up, Henri and I ventured into the sitting room to wake up Sarah and Emmy. I shook Emma awake.

"Em," I said quietly, trying not to disturb Mum. "Em, it's time to wake up."

"Go away, Liz," she muttered.

"Okay, if you really don't want to see the World Cup, we'll just leave you here," I said, turning to walk away.

"All right! I'm up, I'm up! Hey, I can't see you," she said.

"You don't have your glasses on, you goof," I replied. "Where did you leave them?"

"On top of my rucksack," she answered. I walked over to it, and grabbed her glasses. I handed them to her. She put them on.

"Come on, get dressed," I said, rummaging through her rucksack. I tossed her a pair of jeans, and a jumper. "You too," I added to Sarah, chucking an outfit at her. Henri and I headed back into the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley was stirring the contents of a large pot on the stove, while Mr. Weasley was sitting at the table. He looked up when we entered, and spread his arms so that we could see what he was wearing.

"What d'you think?" he asked anxiously. "We're supposed to go incognito– do I look like a Muggle, Henri?"

"Yeah, very good," Henri answered smiling. Emma and Sarah came into the kitchen just as Harry, Ron, Fred, and George entered.

"Come here, Em," I said. "Mum wants me to braid your hair."

She sat in the chair next to me, and handed me her brush. I began to brush it.

"Where're Bill and Charlie and Per-Per-Percy?" George asked, failing to stifle a huge yawn.

"Well, they're Apparating, aren't they?" Mrs. Weasley said, heaving the pot over to the table, and started ladling porridge into bowls. "So they can have a bit of a lie-in."

"So they're still in bed?" Fred asked grumpily, pulling his bowl towards him. "Why can't we Apparate, too?"

"Because you're not of age, and you haven't got your test," Mrs. Weasley snapped. "And where have those girls got to?"

She left the kitchen, and we heard begin to climb the stairs.

"You have to pass a test to Apparate?" Henri asked just as I finished Emma's hair.

"Oh yes," Mr. Weasley said, putting the tickets in his back pocket. "The Department of Magical Transportation had to fine a couple of people the other day for Apparating without a licence. It's not easy, Apparition, and when it's not done properly it can lead to nasty complications. This pair I'm talking about went and splinched themselves."

Everyone around the table winced, except Henri.

"_Splinched_?" she repeated.

"They left half of themselves behind," Mr. Weasley explained. "So, of course, they were stuck. Couldn't move either way. Had to wait for the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad to sort them out. Meant a fair old bit of paperwork, I can tell you, what with the Muggles who spotted the body parts they'd left behind…"

"Were they okay?" Henri asked, looking startled.

"Oh yes. But they got a heavy fine, and I don't think they'll be trying it again in a hurry. You don't mess around with Apparition. There are plenty of adult wizards who don't bother with it. Prefer brooms– slower, but safer."

"But Bill, Charlie, and Percy can do it?"

"Charlie had to take the test twice," Fred said, grinning. "He failed first time, Apparated five miles south where he meant to, right on top of some poor old dear doing her shopping, remember?"

"Yes, well, he passed the second time," Mrs. Weasley said, coming back into the kitchen, amid sniggers.

"Percy only passed two weeks ago," George said. "He's been Apparating downstairs every morning since, just to prove he can."

Mum walked into the kitchen, fully dressed.

"What're you doing up? I thought you were Apparating with Bill, Charlie, and Percy later on," I said.

"Well, I'm already awake, I might as well go with you," Mum answered, getting herself a bowl of porridge.

There were footsteps down the passageway, and Hermione and Ginny entered the kitchen, both pale and drowsy.

"Why do we have to be up so early?" Ginny asked, rubbing her eyes, and sitting down.

"We've got a bit of a walk," Mr. Weasley replied.

"Walk?" Harry repeated. "What, are we walking to the World Cup?"

"No, no, that's miles away," Mr. Weasley answered. "We only need to walk a short way. It's just that it's been difficult for a large number of wizards to congregate without attracting Muggle attention. We have to be very careful about how we travel at the best of times, and on a huge occasion like the Quidditch World Cup–"

"George!" Mrs. Weasley said sharply, and we all jumped.

"What?" George asked, in an innocent tone that fooled no one.

"What is that in your pocket?"

"Nothing!"

"Don't you lie to me!"

Mrs. Weasley pointed her wand at George's pocket, and said, "_Accio_!"

Several small, brightly coloured objects zoomed out of George's pocket. He tried to grab them, but missed and they flew into Mrs. Weasley's outstretched hand.

"We told you to destroy them!" Mrs. Weasley said furiously. "We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, both of you!"

"What are those?" I whispered to Ginny.

"Ton-Tongue Toffees," she whispered back. "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

It wasn't a pretty sight; the twins had been trying to sneak as many toffees out of the house possible, and it was only by using the Summoning Charm, did Mrs. Weasley manage to find them all.

"_Accio_! _Accio_! _Accio_!" she shouted, and toffees zoomed from all sorts of unlikely places, like the lining of George's jacket, and the turn-ups of Fred's jeans.

"We spent six months developing those!" Fred shouted as Mrs. Weasley threw the toffees away.

"Oh, a fine way to spend six months!" she shrieked. "No wonder you didn't get more O.W.Ls!"

The atmosphere wasn't friendly as we left. Mrs. Weasley was still glowering as she kissed Mr. Weasley on the cheek, though not nearly as much as Fred and George, each had pulled on their rucksacks and walked out without saying anything to her.

"Well, have a lovely time," Mrs. Weasley, "and _behave yourselves_," she called after the twins. "I'll send Bill, Charlie, and Percy along around midday," Mrs. Weasley told Mr. Weasley, as we set out after the twins.

It was chilly, and the moon was still out. Only a dull, greenish ting along the horizon showed that daybreak was drawing closer.

"So, how _does_ everyone get there without Muggles noticing?" Henri asked me.

"Well, it's a massive organisational problem," I replied. "Don't ask how I know this. Anyway, roughly, a hundred thousand wizards turn up to the World Cup, and we haven't got a big enough magical site to accommodate them all. So, the Ministry had to find a nice deserted moor, and set up as many anti-Muggle precautions as possible. The entire Ministry's been working on it for months. And everyone can't show up the day of. People with cheaper tickets usually arrive about two weeks before. A limited number can use Muggle transport. Some'll have Apparated, or will Apparate, but the Ministry has to set up safe points for them to appear. And for those us who can't Apparate, or don't want to, we use Portkeys. They're objects that are used to transport wizards from one spot to another at a prearranged time."

"What sort of objects are Portkeys?" Henri asked.

"Anything," I answered. "Inconspicuous things, so Muggles don't go picking them up."

It was silent after that. We headed down the dark lane towards the village. The sky lightened very slowly as we made our way through the village. My hands and feet were freezing. Mr. Weasley kept checking his watch.

We didn't have a chance to talk once we began to climb the Stoatshead Hill, stumbling sometimes in rabbit holes, slipping on the grass. My legs were starting hurt when I finally reached the top.

"Whew," Mr. Weasley panted, taking off his glasses, and wiping them on his jumper. "Well, we've made good time– we've got ten minutes…"

Hermione and Mum came over the crest of the hill last, Hermione was clutching onto Mum.

"Now we just need the Portkey," Mr. Weasley said, replacing his glasses, and squinting around at the ground. "It won't be big… come on…"

We spread out, searching. We had only been looking for a couple of minutes, when we heard a shout.

"Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it!"

Two tall figures were silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the side hilltop.

"Amos!" Mr. Weasley said smiling, striding over to the man who had shouted. The rest of us followed.

Mr. Weasley was shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a scrubby brown beard, who was holding a mouldy, old boot in his other hand.

"This is Amos Diggory, everyone," Mr. Weasley introduced. "Works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"

Cedric Diggory was an extremely handsome boy of about seventeen. He was Captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team.

"Hi," Cedric said, looking at all of us.

We all said 'Hi' back except Fred and George, who nodded. I don't they've forgiven Hufflepuff for beating Gryffindor in the first match of the season last year.

"Long walk, Arthur?" Mr. Diggory asked.

"Not too bad," Mr. Weasley replied. "We live just on the other side of the village there. You?"

"Had to get up at two, didn't we, Ced? I tell you, I'll be glad when he's got his Apparition test. Still… not complaining… Quidditch World Cup, wouldn't miss it for a sack full of Galleons– and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, looks like I got off easy…" Mr. Diggory peered good-naturedly at all us kids. "All these yours, Arthur?"

"Oh, no, only the redheads, except for Lizzie," Mr. Weasley said, pointing out his children, then me. "She's a friend of Ginny's. This is Henri, another friend, Lizzie's sisters Sarah and Emma-Lynn, and Lily, their mother. This is Hermione, friend of Ron's– and Harry, another friend–"

"Merlin's beard," Mr. Diggory said, his eyes widening. "Harry? Harry _Potter_?"

"Er– yeah," Harry said.

"Ced's talked about you, of course. Told us all about playing against you last year… I said to him, I said– Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will… _you beat Harry Potter_!"

Harry stayed silent, while Fred and George were both scowling again. I think I am too, because Mum gave me a warning glare. Cedric looked slightly embarrassed.

"Harry fell off his broom, Dad," he muttered. "I told you… it was an accident…"

"Yes, but _you_ didn't fall off, did you?" Mr. Diggory roared amiably, slapping Cedric on his back. "Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman… but the best man won, I'm sure Harry'd say the same, wouldn't you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don't need to be a genius to tell which one's the better flier!"

"Must be nearly time," Mr. Weasley said quickly, pulling out his watch again. "Do you know whether we're waiting for anymore, Amos?"

"No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already, and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets," Mr. Diggory said. "There aren't anymore of in this area, are there?"

"Not that I know of," Mr. Weasley said. "Yes, it's minute off… we'd better get ready…"

He looked at Henri and Hermione. "You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all, a finger will do–"

With extreme difficulty, owing to the bulky rucksacks, the fourteen of us crowded around the boot held out by Mr. Diggory.

We stood there, in a tight circle as a chilly breeze swept over the hilltop. No one spoke. This would look very strange to a Muggle… eleven kids, three adults, holding onto this mouldy, old boot in the half-darkness, waiting…

"Three… two… one…" Mr. Weasley muttered.

It happened immediately. I felt as if something had hooked me around the middle, pulling me irresistibly forwards. My feet had left the ground; I could feel Henri and Sarah's shoulders banging into mine; we were wall speeding forwards in a howl of wind and a whirl of colour; my finger was stuck to the boot as though it was magnetically pulling me onwards and then–

My feet slammed into the ground; Sarah fell into me, knocking me over, along with Henri.

"Were you and Emmy born to knock me into the ground?" I asked Sarah as all of us laid on the ground.

I looked up, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Diggory, Mum, and Cedric were still standing, though looking very windswept.

"Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill," said a voice.


	20. Chapter 20: The Campsite

**Disclaimer: I'll let you know when I do.**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty  
The Campsite**

_Lizzie's POV_

Mum pulled Sarah off of me. I got to my feet, and looked around. We had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted moor. In front of us was a pair of tired and grumpy-looking wizards. One of them was holding a large, gold watch, the other held a thick roll of parchment and a quill. Both were dressed as Muggles, though very inexpertly. The man with the watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes, and his colleague, a kilt and poncho.

"Morning, Basil," Mr. Weasley said, picking up the boot, and handing it to the kilted wizard, who threw it into a large box of used Portkeys. There was an old newspaper, an empty drinks can, and a punctured football.

"Hello there, Arthur," Basil said wearily. "Not on duty, eh? It's all right for some… we've been here all night… you'd better get out of the way, we've got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five fifteen. Hang on, I'll find your campsite… Weasley… Weasley…" He consulted his parchment list. "About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you come to. Site manager's called Mr. Roberts. Diggory… second field… ask for Mr. Payne."

"Thanks, Basil," Mr. Weasley said, and beckoned everyone to follow him.

We set off across the moor, unable to see much through the mist. After twenty minutes or so, a small, stone cottage next to a gate came into view. Beyond it, you could just make out the shapes of hundreds and hundreds of tents, rising up the gentle slope of a large field towards a dark wood on the horizon. We said goodbye to the Diggorys, and approached the cottage door.

A man was standing in the doorway, looking at all the tents. I could tell from a glance that this was the only real Muggle for miles. When he heard our footsteps, he turned to us.

"Morning!" Mr. Weasley said brightly.

"Morning," replied the Muggle.

"Would you be Mr. Roberts?"

"Aye, I would," Mr. Roberts said. "And who're you?"

"Weasley– two tents, booked a couple of days ago?"

"Aye," Mr. Roberts said, consulting a list tacked to the door. "You've got a space up by the wood there. Just the one night?"

"That's it," Mr. Weasley said.

"You'll be paying now, then?" Mr. Roberts asked.

"Certainly," Mum answered, pulling a roll of Muggle money out of her pocket, and began to peel the notes apart. Mum handed over the right amount.

Mr. Roberts rummaged around in a tin for some change.

"Never been this crowded," he said suddenly, looking out at the field again. "Hundreds of pre-bookings. People usually just turn up…"

"Is that right?" Mr. Weasley said as Mum held her hand out for her change, but Mr. Roberts didn't give it to her.

"Aye," Mr. Roberts said. "People from all over. Loads of foreigners. And not just foreigners. Weirdos, you know? There's a bloke walking round in a kilt and a poncho."

"Shouldn't he?" Mr. Weasley said anxiously.

"It's like some sort of… I dunno… like some sort of rally," Mr. Roberts continued. "They all seem to know each other. Like a big party."

At that moment, a wizard Apparated next to Mr. Roberts's front door.

"_Obliviate_!" he said sharply, pointing his wand at Mr. Roberts.

Immediately, Mr. Roberts's eyes slid out of focus, and a look of unconcern crossed his face. The symptoms of one who had their memory modified.

"A map of the campsite for you," Mr. Roberts said placidly to Mum. "And your change."

"Thank you very much," Mum said kindly.

The wizard accompanied us towards the gate of the campsite. He looked exhausted. Once we were out of earshot of Mr. Roberts, he muttered, "Been having a lot of trouble with him. Needs a Memory Charm ten times a day to keep him happy. And Ludo Bagman's not helping. Trotting around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice, not a worry about anti-Muggle security. Blimey, I'll be glad when this is over. See you later, Arthur."

He Disapparated.

"I thought Mr. Bagman was Head of Magical Games and Sports?" Ginny asked, surprised. "He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles, shouldn't he?"

"He should," Mr. Weasley said, smiling, and leading us through the gates into the campsite, "but Ludo's always been a bit… well… _lax_ about security. You couldn't wish for a more enthusiastic Head of the Sports Department, though. He played Quidditch for England himself, you know. And he was the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had."

"Shut up, Harry," four voices snapped, just as Harry opened his mouth to speak.

"Girls, be nice," Mum chided. "No, Harry, you're still not allowed to say anything about the Wimbourne Wasps."

We traipsed up the misty field between the long rows of tents. Most looked almost ordinary; their owners had tried to make them as Muggle as possible, but slipped up by adding chimneys, bell-pulls, or weather vanes. But here and there was a tent so obviously magical, it was no wonder why Mr. Roberts was getting suspicious. Halfway up the field stood an extravagant tent, it was made of striped silk like a miniature palace with several live peacocks tethered at the entrance. A little further on we passed a tent that had three floors and several turrets, and a short way after that, there was a tent which had a front garden attached, complete with a birdbath, sundial, and a fountain.

"Always the same," Mr. Weasley said, smiling, "we can't resist showing off when we get together. Ah, here we are, look this is us."

We had reached the very edge of the wood at the top of the field, and here was an empty space with a small sign in the ground that read 'Weezly'

"Couldn't have a better spot!" Mr. Weasley said happily. "The pitch is just on the other side of the wood there, we're as close as we could be." He removed his backpack from his shoulders. "Right," he said excitedly. "no magic allowed, strictly speaking, not when we're out in these numbers on Muggle land. We'll be putting these tents up by hand! Shouldn't be too difficult… Muggles do it all the time… Lily, where do you reckon we should start?"

Mum, Henri, and Hermione sorted out the poles and pegs, and had the rest of us do small jobs. Though Mr. Weasley wasn't much of a help, because he got thoroughly excited when it came to using the mallet, we finally managed to erect a pair of two-man tents.

We all stood back to admire our handiwork. No one would guess these tents belonged to wizards. Hermione and Henri looked very doubtful that fifteen people would fit in two tents. Mr. Weasley dropped to his hands and knees and entered the first tent.

"We'll be a bit cramped," he called, "but I think we'll all squeeze in. Come and have a look."

Harry went in first, and I followed. It looked like a three-roomed flat, with a kitchen and a bathroom. There were crocheted covers on the mismatched chairs, and a strong smell of cats. Henri had followed me in, and she looked completely amazed.

"Well, it's not for long," Mr. Weasley said, peering in at the four bunk beds in the bedroom. "I borrowed it from Perkins at the office. Doesn't camp much anymore, poor fellow, he's got lumbago."

He picked up the dusty kettle, and peered inside it, "We'll need water…"

"There's a tap marked on this map the Muggle gave us," Ron said. "It's on the other side of the field. "Well, why don't you, Harry, and Hermione go get us some water, then–" Mr. Weasley handed over the kettle, and a couple of saucepans, "–and the rest of us will get some wood for a fire."

"But we've got an oven," Ron said, "why can't we just–?"

"Ron, anti-Muggle security!" Mr. Weasley said. "When real Muggles camp, they cook on fires outdoors, I've seen them at it!"

After we quickly toured the girls' tent, which was slightly smaller than the boys', but without the smell of cats, Harry, Ron, and Hermione set off with the kettle and saucepans, while the rest of us headed into the forest for firewood. The sun had finally risen, and the mist was beginning to lift. I looked at the campsite, and it was a city of tents.

We each collected an armful of wood and twigs. When we had deposited the wood into the makeshift fire pit, Mr. Weasley pulled out a matchbook, and began striking the matches. He didn't have any success. I was surprised Mum hadn't taken over yet. He looked as though he was having the time of his life.

"Maybe you should take over before we run out of matches," I said to Mum.

"Probably," she replied, walking over to him. Taking the book, she started showing him how to do it properly.

"You've been ages," George said as Harry, Ron, and Hermione finally returned.

"Met a few people," Ron said, setting the water down. "You not got that fire started yet?"

"Dad was having fun with matches, and Lily let him have his fun, before showing him how to do it properly," Fred said.

We finally got the fire lit, but it would be another hour before we could cook anything on it. We had something to watch while we waited, though. Our tents seemed to be pitched right next to a sort of street to the pitch, and Ministry members kept hurrying up and down it, greeting Mum and Mr. Weasley affably as they passed. Mr. Weasley kept a commentary going mainly for Henri and Hermione's benefit; the Weasley children, and my siblings and I knew enough of the Ministry.

"That was Cuthbert Mockridge, Head of the Goblin Liaison Office… here comes Gilbert Wimple, he's with the Committee on Experimental Charms, he's had those horns for awhile now… Hello, Arnie… Arnold Peasegood, he's an Obliviator– member of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, you know… and that's Bode and Croaker… they're Unspeakables…"

"They're what?"

"From the Department of Mysteries, top-secret, no idea what they get up to…"

At last, the fire was ready, and we had just started cooking eggs and sausages when Bill, Charlie, and Percy came out of the woods towards us.

"Just Apparated, Dad," Percy said loudly. "Ah, excellent, lunch!"

We were halfway through lunch, when Mr. Weasley jumped to his feet, waving and grinning at a man who was coming towards us. "Aha!" he said. "The man of the moment! Ludo!"

Mr. Bagman was _the_ most noticeable person I've seen here. He was wearing long Quidditch robes with thick, horizontal stripes of yellow and black with an enormous picture of a wasp splashed across his chest– his Wimbourne Wasps uniform. He had short blond hair, and a rosy complexion.

"Ahoy there!" Bagman called happily. He wasn't walking, he was _springing_. I think he was more excited than us.

"Arthur, old man," he puffed, as he reached the campfire, "what a day, eh? What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming… and hardly a hiccough in the arrangements… not much for me to do!"

Behind him, a group of Ministry wizards rushed past, pointing at the distant evidence of some sort of magical fire which was sending violet sparks twenty into the air.

Percy rushed forwards with his hand outstretched. Apparently, his disapproval of Ludo Bagman didn't prevent him from wanting to make a good impression.

"Ah– yes," Mr. Weasley said, grinning, "this is my son, Percy, he's just started at the Ministry– and this is Fred– no, George, sorry– _that's _Fred– Bill, Charlie, and Ron– my daughter, Ginny– her friends Henrietta Hawthorne and Elizabeth Potter– Lizzie's sisters Sarah and Emma-Lynn– and Ron's friends, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter."

Bagman did the smallest double-take when heard Harry's name, and his eyes looked up towards Harry's scar, before turning to Mum.

"Know who you are, the infamous Lily Potter," Bagman said. Mum didn't ask how Bagman knew her name– Sirius worked in the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

"Everyone," Mr. Weasley continued, "this is Ludo Bagman, you know who he is, it's thanks to him we've got such good tickets–"

Bagman beamed and waved his hand as if to stay it had been nothing.

"Fancy a flutter on the match, Arthur? Lily?" he said eagerly, jingling his pockets. It sound as if a lot of gold were in there. "I've already got Roddy Pontner betting me Bulgaria will score first– I offered him nice odds, considering Ireland's front three are the strongest I've seen in years– and Agatha Timms has put up half shares in her eel farm on a week-long match."

"Five Galleons," Mum said; my jaw dropped as did my siblings and Henri's, "that Ireland will win."

"Very well. Arthur?" Bagman inquired.

"Oh… go on, then," Mr. Weasley said. "Let's see… a Galleon on Ireland to win?"

"A Galleon?" Bagman looked slightly disappointed, but quickly recovered himself. "Very well, very well… any other takers?"

"They're a bit young to be gambling," Mr. Weasley said. "Molly wouldn't like–"

"We'll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts," Fred said, as he and George quickly pooled their money together, "that Ireland win– but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch. Oh, and we'll through in a fake wand."

"You don't want to go showing Mr. Bagman rubbish like that–" Percy hissed, but bagman didn't seem to think the wand was rubbish at all. His face shone with excitement as he took the wand from Fred, and when the wand gave a loud squawk, and turned into a rubber chicken, Bagman laughed.

"Excellent! I haven't seen one this convincing in years! I'd pay five Galleons for that!"

Percy froze in disapproval.

"Boys," Mr. Weasley said under his breath. "I don't want you betting… that's all your savings…your mother–"

"Don't be a spoilsport, Arthur!" Bagman boomed. "They're old enough to know what they want! You reckon Ireland will win, but Krum'll get the Snitch? Not a chance, boys, not a chance… I'll give you excellent odds on that one… we'll add five Galleons for the funny wand, then, shall we…"

Mr. Weasley watched helplessly as Bagman took out a notebook, and began writing their names down.

"Cheers," George said, taking the slip of parchment Bagman gave him.

Bagman turned cheerfully back to Mr. Weasley.

"Couldn't do me a brew, I suppose? I'm keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian opposite number's making difficulties, and I can't understand a word he's saying. Barty'll be able to sort it out. He speaks a hundred and fifty languages.

"Mr. Crouch?" Percy said suddenly, abandoning his look of disapproval. _Oh, boy, here we go_, I thought as Percy began to positively writhe in excitement. "He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll…"

"Anyone can speak Troll," Fred said dismissively, "all you have to do is point and grunt."

Percy threw Fred a nasty look, and stoked the fire to bring the kettle to a boil.

"Any news of Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?" Mr. Weasley asked as Bagman joined us on the grass.

"Not a dicky bird," Bagman said. "But she'll turn up. Poor old Bertha… memory like a leaky cauldron, and no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it. She'll wander back into the office in some time in October, thinking it's still July."

"You don't think it might be time to send someone to look for her?" Mr. Weasley suggested tentatively as Bagman was handed tea by Percy.

"Barty Crouch keeps saying that," Bagman said, "but we really can't spare anyone at the moment. Oh– talk of the devil! Barty!"

A wizard had just Apparated next to our fire. Crouch was a stiff, elderly man, dressed in a flawlessly crisp suit and a tie. The parting of his hair was unusually straight, and his shoes were highly polished. It was easy to see why Percy idolized him. Percy believed in rigidly following the rules. Mr. Crouch had dressed like a Muggle so thoroughly, that, if he hadn't Apparated, I'm sure Henri wouldn't believe he was a wizard.

"Pull up a bit of grass, Barty," Bagman said brightly, patting the ground next to him.

"No, thank you, Ludo," Crouch said. "I've been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top Box."

"Oh, is _that_ what they're after?" Bagman asked. "I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent."

"Mr. Crouch!" Percy exclaimed breathlessly. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Oh," Crouch said, looking at Percy in mild surprise. "Yes– thank you, Weatherby."

Fred and George choked into their cups, and I snorted into mine. Mum smacked me lightly on the head with a grin. Percy, very pink around the ears, occupied himself with the kettle.

"Oh, and I've been wanting a word with you, too, Arthur," Crouch said, his eyes resting on Mr. Weasley. "Ali Bashir's on the warpath. He wants a word with you about your embargo on flying carpets."

Mr. Weasley sighed. "I sent him an owl about that just last week. If I've told him once, I've told a hundred times: carpets are defined as a Muggle Artefact by the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects, but will he listen?"

"I doubt it," Crouch said, accepting a cup of tea from Percy. "He's desperate to export here."

"Well, they'll never replace brooms in Britain, will they?" Bagman asked.

"Ali thinks there's a niche in the market for a family vehicle," Crouch replied. "I remember my grandfather had an Axminster that could seat twelve– but that was before carpets were banned, of course."

"So, been keeping busy, Barty?" Bagman asked breezily.

"Fairly. Organising Portkeys across five continents is no mean feat, Ludo," Crouch answered drily.

"I expect you'll be glad when this is over?" Mr. Weasley inquired.

Bagman looked shocked. "Glad! Don't know when I've had more fun… still, it's not as though we haven't got anything to look forward to, eh, Barty? Eh? Plenty left to organise, eh?"

Mr. Crouch raised his eyebrows. "We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details–"

"Oh, details!" Bagman exclaimed, waving the word away. "They've signed, haven't they? They've agreed, haven't they? I bet you anything these kids'll know soon enough anyway. I mean, it's happening at Hogwarts–"

"Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know," Crouch interrupted. "Thank you for the tea, Weatherby."

He gave his untouched tea back to Percy, and waited for Bagman. He struggled to his feet, finishing the last drops of his tea.

"See you all later!" he said. "You'll be up in the Top Box with me– I'm commentating!" He waved, Crouch nodded, and both Disapparated.

"What's happening at Hogwarts, Dad?" Fred said immediately. "What were they talking about?"

"You'll find out about it soon enough," Mr. Weasley said smiling.

"Mum?" four not-so-innocent voices chorused.

"Lily?" Henri asked at the same we spoke.

"Like Arthur said, you'll find out soon enough," Mum said with a grin. I knew that grin, it was the same grin I used when I knew what Harry or Rhiannon was getting for their birthdays or Christmas. That grin meant, 'I know a secret, but you'll find out eventually.'

"It's classified information, until such time the Ministry decides to release it," Percy said stiffly. "Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it."

"Oh, shut up, Weatherby," Fred said.

As the afternoon wore on, a sense of excitement rose like a cloud over the campsite. By twilight, the air itself seemed to be quivering with anticipation. As the darkness spread over the thousands of waiting wizards, the Ministry seemed to have given up. They had stopped fighting the obvious magic popping up everywhere.

Salesmen were Apparating every few feet, carrying trays and pushing carts of merchandise. There were luminous rosettes– green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria– which were squealing the names of the players, pointed green hats festooned with dancing shamrocks, Bulgarian scarves adorned with lions that really roared, flags from both countries, which played their national anthems when waved; there were tiny models of Firebolts that really flew, and collectible figures of famous players, which walked across your hand, preening themselves.

Ginny, Henri, and I walked excitedly amongst the salesmen. We all bought rosettes –I bought three, I felt bad Fred and George wouldn't have anything–, I bought a flag, and a model of my dream broom, while Henri bought two models of the Firebolts to give her brother and sister, and the dancing shamrock hat to give her brother on his birthday.

"Ooh, look at these! Wow!" Henri exclaimed rushing over to a cart piled high with what looked like brass binoculars, except they had all sorts of weird knobs and dials.

"Omnioculars," the salewizard said eagerly. "You can replay action… slow everything down… and they flashed up a play-by-play breakdown if you need it. Bargain– ten Galleons each."

Mum was in front of us with Sarah and Emmy. "Three pairs, please."

The salewizard handed her three, and she gave a pair each to Sarah and Emmy. No one would guess Mum was an avid Quidditch fan, but she was just as excited as us.

"One pair," Henri said.

"Two pairs," I said. I handed a pair to Ginny. She opened her mouth to speak. "Don't worry about it," I said, hushing her.

We walked back over to the tents. Henri dashed into the girls' tent to put away what she had gotten her siblings. Bill and Charlie also had Ireland rosettes, and Mr. Weasley a flag. I chucked the two other rosettes at Fred and George.

"Here," I said.

"Thanks, Liz," George said.

"Yeah, thanks," Fred said.

"It was nothing," I said. I had considered buying them Omnioculars, but I reckon that was pushing it.

Henri and Harry, Ron, and Hermione returned as a gong sounded somewhere beyond the woods, and, at once, green and red lanterns sprung to life in the trees, lighting a path to the pitch.

"It's time!" Mr. Weasley said, looking as excited as the rest of us. "Come on, let's go!"

* * *

**Author's Note: Does anyone know why the HBP was pushed back to July 17, 2009?**


	21. Chapter 21: The Quidditch World Cup

**Disclaimer: Why? Why? Why?**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One  
The Quidditch World Cup**

_Lizzie's POV  
The Stadium_

Hanging onto our souvenirs, we followed Mr. Weasley into the woods, following the lantern-lit trail. We could hear thousands of people moving around, shouts of laughter, bits of singing. The atmosphere of zealous excitement, was extremely infectious. I couldn't stop smiling. We walked through the wood for twenty minutes, talking and joking very loudly, until we came to the other side, and we found ourselves in front of a gigantic gold stadium.

"Seats a hundred thousand," Mr. Weasley informed us. "Ministry task force of five hundred have been working on it all year. Muggle-Repelling Charms on every inch of it. Every time Muggles have got anywhere near here all year, they've suddenly remembered urgent appointments and had to dash away again… Bless them," he added fondly, leading the way to the nearest entrance, which was surrounded by a group of shouting witches and wizards.

"Prime seats!" exclaimed the Ministry witch at the entrance, when she checked our tickets. "Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go."

The stairs in the stadium were covered with purple carpet. We climbed up with the rest of the crowd, who slowly filtered away through doors into stands on our left and right. Our group, however kept climbing, and finally reached the top of the staircase, and found ourselves in a small box, set at the highest point, and situated exactly halfway between the goalposts. About twenty-five purple and gilt chairs stood in two rows. _Strange how the front had fifteen chairs_, I thought as we filed into the front row. I looked down.

A hundred thousand witches and wizards were taking their seats. Everything was lit with a golden light that seemed to have come from the stadium itself. Opposite of us was a gigantic blackboard. Gold writing kept dashing across it, flashing advertisements across the pitch.

_The Bluebottle: A Broom for All the Family– safe, reliable, and with In-built Anti-Burglar Buzzer_… _Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess-Remover: No Pain, No Stain… Gladrags Wizardwear– London, Paris, Hogsmeade_

The box was empty except for us, and a house-elf, who was sitting in the back row, the second seat from the end, with its eyes covered.

"_Dobby_?" I heard Harry ask incredulously. I looked behind me. The house-elf had looked up, and parted its finger's enough to see. Its eyes were brown, and its nose was the same size, and looked like a tomato. It wasn't Dobby though.

"Did sir just call me Dobby?" the elf asked curiously. Its voice was higher than Dobby's, and it was probably a female. Ron and Hermione had turned around, and so had Mr. Weasley.

"Sorry, I just thought you were someone I knew," Harry told the elf.

"But I knows Dobby too, sir!" she squeaked. "My name is Winky, sir– and you, sir– you is surely Harry Potter!"

"Yeah, I am," Harry replied.

"But Dobby talks of you all the time, sir!" she said.

"How is he? How is freedom suiting him?" Harry asked.

"Ah, sir, ah, sir, meaning no disrespect, sir, but I is not sure you did Dobby a favour, sir, when you is setting him free," Winky said.

"Why?" Harry asked. "What's wrong with him?"

"Freedom is going to Dobby's head, sir," Winky said sadly. "Ideas above his station, sir. Can't get another position, sir."

"Why not?" Harry inquired.

Winky lowered her voice by half an octave, and whispered, "_He is wanting paying for his work, sir_."

"Paying?" Harry repeated blankly. "Well– why shouldn't he be paid?"

"House-elves is not paid, sir!" Winky said. "No, no, no. I say to Dobby, I says, go find yourself a nice family and settle down, Dobby. He is getting up to all sorts of high jinks, sir, what is unbecoming of a house-elf. You goes racketing around like this, Dobby, I says, and next thing I hear you's up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, like some common goblin."

"Well, it's about time he had a bit of fun," Harry said.

"House-elves is not supposed to have fun, Harry Potter," Winky said firmly. "House-elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, Harry Potter, but my master sends me to the Top Box, and I comes, sir."

"Why's he sent you up here, if he knows you don't like heights?" Harry asked.

"Master– master wants me to save him a seat, Harry Potter, he is very busy," Winky said. "Winky is wishing she is back in master's tent, Harry Potter, but Winky does what she is told, Winky is a good house-elf."

"That's a house-elf?" Henri said to me. "Sorta strange creatures, aren't they?"

"There're a lot of strange things in the world," I said. "Now, let's see if we can't find Rhiannon and Sirius with these Omnioculars."

We lifted our Omnioculars to our eyes and began looking through the crowd.

"D'you know where he is, Mum?" I asked.

"No, but I imagine he's about as high as us."

Henri and I continued to scan the crowd. We saw familiar faces from school, but no Rhiannon.

"Ugh… there's a bloke down there, picking his nose," Henri said, disgusted. She moved her Omnioculars away randomly. "Hey! I found her!"

"Where?" I asked.

"Over there," Henri said, putting hers down, and pointed.

"Oh… how do we get her attention?" I asked.

"I dunno… oh! She's looking at us!" Henri said, putting down her Omnioculars, and waved at Rhiannon. I did too, and so did Ginny and Mum. Then Rhiannon and Sirius were waving at us.

"'A display from the team mascots will precede the match'," Hermione read aloud from her programme.

"Oh, that's always worth watching," Mr. Weasley said. "National teams bring creatures from their native land, you know, to put on a bit of a show."

The box slowly filled around us for the next half hour. Mum and Mr. Weasley kept shaking hands with very important wizards. Percy kept jumping to his feet so often, one might've thought he was sitting on something sharp. Then Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic himself, entered. Percy bowed so low, that his glasses fell off, and shattered. He repaired them with his wand, and remained in his seat from then on, throwing jealous looks at Harry, whom Fudge had greeted like an old friend. Fudge introduced Harry to the wizards on either side of him.

"Harry Potter, you know," he said loudly to the Bulgarian Minister. "_Harry Potter_… oh, come on now, you know who he is… the boy who survived You-Know-Who… you _do_ know who he is–"

He suddenly spotted Harry's scar, and started babbling loudly, and excitedly, pointing at it.

"Knew we'd get there in the end," Fudge said wearily. "I'm no great shakes at languages, I need Barty Crouch for this sort of thing. Ah, I see his house-elf's saving him a seat… good job too, these Bulgarian blighters have been trying to cadge all the best places… ah, and here's Lucius!"

I turned, so did Harry, Ron, Hermione, Mum, and Henri. Edging along the second row to three empty seats behind Mr. Weasley were none other than the Malfoys. Lucius Malfoy, Malfoy, and a woman who was probably Narcissa. She was tall and slim with blonde hair.

"Ah, Fudge," Mr. Malfoy said, holding his hand out as he reached for the Minister. "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?"

"How do you do, how do you do?" Fudge said smiling, and bowing to Mrs. Malfoy. "And allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk– Oblonsk– Mr.– well, he's the Bulgarian Minister for Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And let's see who else– you know Arthur Weasley, and Lily Potter, I daresay?"

It was a tense moment. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy stared at each other. The last time they had met, it had come to a fight in Flourish and Blotts. Mr. Malfoy sneered at Mum, before his eyes swept up and down the row.

"Good Lord, Arthur," he said softly. "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"

Fudge, who hadn't been listening, said, "Lucius has just given a _very_ generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest."

"How– how nice," Mr. Weasley said.

Mr. Malfoy glared at Henri, who glared back, before his eyes returned to Hermione. She stared determinedly back at him. Mr. Malfoy sneered at Mr. Weasley one more time before continuing to his seats.

"I'll bet he's not pleased to find himself sharing the Top Box with three Muggle-borns," Henri said as we turned to face the pitch. "Gits."

Next second, Bagman came into the box.

"Everyone ready?" he asked. "Minister– ready to go?"

"Ready when you are, Ludo," Fudge responded.

"_Sonorus_," Bagman said. His voice was now magically magnified. "Ladies and gentlemen… welcome! Welcome to the final of the one hundred and thirty-first Quidditch World Cup!"

Everyone clapped and screamed. Thousands of flags waved, adding their national anthems to the noise. The blackboard opposite us wiped clear its last message, and now read BULGARIA: ZERO, IRELAND: ZERO.

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce… the Bulgarian Team Mascots!"

The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid wall of scarlet, roared its approval.

"I wonder what they've brought?" Mr. Weasley said, leaning forwards in his seat. "Aaah!" He suddenly whipped off his glasses, and polished them on his robes. "_Veela_!"

"What are Veel–?" Harry began to ask, but his question was answered as a hundred Veela glided onto the pitch. They were women, very beautiful women, and I was quite sure they weren't human. Their hair was white-gold, and their skin seemed to shine. Music started, and the Veela began to dance.

"Look at your brother," Henri giggled, from next to me. Harry was standing up, and one of his legs was resting on the wall of the box. Ron too, was standing up, though he looked like he was about to dive off of a launch pad.

"Harry, what _are_ you doing?" Hermione asked him.

Mum snorted, she had her Omnioculars where Sirius was sitting. "He should know better when Rhiannon's with him. Look at Sirius," Mum said. Henri and I did– I almost burst out laughing.

He had his shirt off, and looked as though he was about to do the same thing Harry and Ron were. I could see Rhiannon yelling, 'DAD! What in the name of Merlin are you doing?' but, he was ignoring her. She finally smacked him on the upside of the head, and threw his shirt at him.

The music had stopped, and the Veela had left, and angry yells filled the stadium.

"And now," Bagman roared, "kindly put your wands in the air… for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

A great green and gold comet zoomed into the stadium. It did a circuit around the stadium before splitting into two smaller comets. Each hurtled towards the goalposts. A rainbow arced suddenly, connecting the two comets. The crowd 'oooohed' and 'aaaaahed.' The rainbow had faded, and the two comets merged; they formed a great, glittering shamrock, which rose into the sky, and began to fly over the stands. Gold coins fell from it. I looked up at the shamrock– it was composed of thousands of tiny men wearing red waistcoats, each carrying a small lamp of gold or green.

"Excellent!" Ron yelled.

"Leprechauns!" Mr. Weasley shouted over the tumultuous applause of the crowd. Some still scrambling to get the gold.

Henri grabbed some, but I hit them out of her hands.

"Lizzie, what's your problem?" she asked.

"It's leprechaun gold," I said.

"Oh, right. It vanishes after a few hours," she said dejectedly.

The shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down to the pitch on the opposite side of the Veela, and sat cross-legged to watch the match

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome– the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you– Dimitrov!"

A blurred scarlet figure on a broomstick, shot onto the pitch from an entrance far below, to the applause from the Bulgarian supporters.

"Ivanova!"

A second scarlet player zoomed out.

"Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand– _Krum_!"

"That's him, that's him!" Ron shouted.

"And now, please greet– the Irish National Quidditch Team!" Bagman yelled. "Presenting– Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand– _Lynch_!"

Seven green blurs streaked onto the pitch.

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"

A small and skinny wizard came onto the pitch, he wore robes of pure gold, matching the stadium. He was carrying a large, wooden crate under one arm, and his broomstick under the other. Mostafa mounted his broom, and kicked the crate opened. The four Quidditch balls burst into the air. I saw the Snitch for a fraction of a second before it disappeared. With a sharp blast of a whistle, Mostafa flew after the balls.

"Theeeeeeeey're OFF!" Bagman screamed. "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Levski! Moran!"

The Chasers were throwing the Quaffle so fast to each other, that Bagman only had time to say their names.

"Troy! Moran! Levski! Mullet! Troy! TROY SCORES!" Bagman roared, and the stadium shook with applause and cheers. "Ten-zero to Ireland!"

"What?" Harry yelled. "But Levski's got the Quaffle!"

"Harry, if you're not going to watch at normal speed, you're going to miss things!" Hermione shouted, who was dancing up and down, waving her arms in the air while Troy did a lap of honour. The leprechauns were back in the air again, and formed the great, glittering shamrock again. The Veela were watching them sulkily.

Ireland Chasers were brilliant. They seemed to read each other's minds by the way they positioned themselves, and the rosette on my chest kept squeaking their names: '_Troy_– _Mullet– Moran_!' And within ten minutes, Ireland had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero, causing a deafening tide of roars and applause from the Irish supporters.

The match became even faster, but more brutal. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, were belting the Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were staring to prevent them from using their best moves. Twice, they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, Ivanova managed to break through, dodge the Keeper, Ryan, and score Bulgaria's first goal.

"Fingers in your ears!" Mr. Weasley bellowed as the Veela started dancing in celebration. After a few seconds, the Veela had stopped dancing, and Bulgaria was in possession of the Quaffle.

"Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova– oh, I say!" Bagman roared.

One hundred thousand witches and wizards gasped as the two Seekers Krum and Lynch, plummeted through the centre of the Chasers extremely fast. I looked to see where the Snitch was.

"They're going to crash!" Hermione and Henri screamed together.

"There's no Snitch! Only Lynch is!" I shouted.

I was right. At the very last second, Krum pulled out of the dive, and spiralled off, while Lynch hit the ground with a dull thud. A groan emitted from every Irish supporter.

"Fool," Mr. Weasley moaned. "Krum was feinting."

"It's time out!" yelled Bagman. "As trained mediwizards hurry onto the pitch to examine Aidan Lynch!"

"He'll be okay, he only got ploughed!" Charlie said reassuringly to Ginny, who was hanging over the side of the box looking horror-struck. "Which is what Krum was after, of course…"

"Anyone want to explain what just happened?" Henri asked.

"It's a Seeker diversion called Wronski Feint. You attempt to fool your opponent into thinking you have seen the Snitch, and hopefully, they'll do what Lynch did, and crash," I explained. "Krum was feinting the entire time."

"Which explains why you yelled there's no Snitch. Can you do the Wronski Feint, then?" Henri asked.

"Yeah."

"After breaking your nose three times, and your arm twice," Emma added.

"Shut up, Em," I snapped. "Still better than Harry. He can't do it at all."

"That's 'cause you freaked him out when your nose and arm were broken at the same time," Sarah said.

"Girls, be nice," Mum chastised. "Your father couldn't do that move, either."

"Yes, well, Dad played Chaser, didn't he?" I said, though secretly proud I alone could only pull off this move.

Krum was high above the pitch, searching, while the mediwizards revived Lynch with cups of potion.

"Will he be all right?" Henri asked, her Omnioculars trained on Lynch.

"In the two years you have been in the wizarding world, have we ever given you any reason not to trust our healing capabilities?" I asked.

"No," she answered.

"Why would we start now?" I asked as Lynch got to his feet to loud cheers from the green-clad supporters. He mounted his Firebolt, and rose into the air. His revival seemed to give Ireland new spirit. When the referee blew his whistle, the Chasers moved into action with a skill unparalleled by anything I've ever seen.

After fifteen furious minutes, Ireland had scored ten more times, bringing the score to one hundred and thirty to ten. The game was starting to get dirtier.

As Mullet shot towards the goalposts yet again, the Bulgarian Keeper, Zograf shot out to meet her. What happened so quickly, I barely caught. I saw cobbing, followed by a scream of rage from the Irish supporters, and Mostafa blew his whistle.

"What did I miss?" Henri asked.

"It's a foul," I answered.

"I knew _that_," she snapped, "but what happened to make it a foul?"

"And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing– excessive use of elbows!" Bagman informed the roaring spectators. "And– yes, it's a penalty to Ireland!"

The leprechauns, who had risen angrily into the air when Mullet had been fouled, now had form the words, 'HA HA HA!'. The Veela leapt to their feet, tossed their angrily, and started dancing.

As one, the Weasley boys and Harry stuffed their fingers in their ears. Hermione, along with us, hadn't bothered, and began tugging on Harry's arm.

"Look at the referee," she said, giggling with us.

Mostafa had landed right in front of the dancing Veela, and was behaving very strangely. He was flexing his muscles and smoothing his moustache.

"Now, we can't have that!" Bagman said, sounding amused. "Somebody slap the referee!"

A mediwizards came running across the pitch, his fingers stuffed in his own ears, and kicked Mostafa in the shins. He seemed to come to himself. He looked very embarrassed, and was shouting at the Veela. They stopped dancing, and were looking mutinous.

"And unless I'm much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian Team Mascots. Now _there_'s something we haven't seen before… oh, this could turn nasty…" Bagman said.

And, it did. Big surprise. It's what you expect at a Quidditch match, isn't it? 'Specially when it's Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Or the Wasps versus the Arrows. Anyway, the Bulgarian Beaters –Volkov and Vulchanov– landed on either side of Mostafa, and began to argue, gesturing at the leprechauns, who now had formed the 'HEE HEE HEE' cheerfully. Mostafa wasn't pleased with their arguments; he was jabbing his finger into the air, obviously telling them to get back into the air, and when they refused, he gave to two short blasts on his whistle.

"_Two _penalties for Ireland!" Bagman shouted, and the Bulgarian crowd hollered in anger. "And Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms… yes… there they go… and Troy takes the Quaffle…"

The match reached a ferociousness beyond anything we had seen today. The Beaters on both sides showed no mercy: Volkov and Vulchanov particularly, seemed not to mind if their bats hit Bludger or human. Dimitrov shot towards Moran, who had the Quaffle, nearly knocking her off her broom.

"_Foul_!" the Irish supporters roared as one (us in the Top Box too, even the Malfoys…unfortunately), all standing in a wave of green.

"Foul!" Bagman echoed. "Dimitrov skins Moran –deliberately flying to collide there– and it's got to be another penalty– yes, there's the whistle!"

The leprechauns were in the air again; this time, they had formed a giant hand, and were giving the Veela the finger. Needless to say, the Veela lost control. They ran across the pitch, and began throwing what appeared to be handfuls of fire at the leprechauns. The Veela didn't look beautiful now, au contraire, their faces were lengthening into sharp, brutal-beaked bird heads, and long, scaly wings bursting from their shoulders.

"And _that_, boys," Mr. Weasley yelled over the crowd, "is why you should never go for looks alone!"

Ministry wizards were streaming onto the pitch below to separate the Veela and the leprechauns, but with little success. Meanwhile, that battle was nothing compared to the one above it. We turned this way and that, watching as the Quaffle was passed at the speed of light–

"Levski– Dimitrov– Moran– Troy– Mullet– Ivanova– Moran again– Moran– MORAN SCORES!"

But our cheers weren't heard over –oh, I don't know– the shrieks of Veela, the blasts now issuing from the Ministry's wands, and the furious roars of the Bulgarians. The game continued immediately. Levski had the Quaffle, then Dimitrov–

Irish Beater Quigley swung at a passing Bludger, and hit it towards Krum. He didn't duck quick enough. It hit him hard in the face.

There was a deafening groan from the crowd. Krum's nose looked broken, but the referee hadn't blown his whistle. I couldn't blame him, he had become distracted. One of the Veela had thrown fire, and set his broomtail on fire.

"Shouldn't they call for time out?" Henri asked. "He can't seriously play like that, can he? I mean, his nose _is_ broke–"

"_Look at Lynch_!" Harry and I shouted.

The Irish Seeker had suddenly gone into a dive. This was no Wronski Feint –why would he need to? Krum's already injured– this was the real thing.

"He's seen it! He's seen it! He's the Snitch! Look at him go!" I yelled excitedly.

Half the crowd seemed to have realised what was happening, the Irish supporters rose, screaming their Seeker on… but Krum was catching up. How he could see, I had no idea. Flecks of blood were trailing the air behind him, as he and Lynch hurtled towards the ground again–

"They're going to crash!" Hermione and Henri shrieked.

"They're not!" Ron shouted.

"Lynch is!" Harry and I yelled.

And we were right– Lynch hit the ground with tremendous force, and was immediately stampeding on by an angry group of Veela.

"The Snitch, where's the Snitch?" Charlie bellowed.

"He's got it –Krum's got it– it's all over!" Harry shouted.

Krum, his red robes covered in blood, was rising slowly into the air, his fest held above his head, clutching the Snitch.

The scoreboard was flashing BULGARIA: ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY, IRELAND: ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY across the crowd, who didn't seem to realise what had happened. Slowly, the cheers from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder and changed to screams of delight.

"IRELAND WIN!" Bagman shouted, who sounded as though he was taken aback at the abrupt end. "KRUM GETS THE SNITCH –BUT IRELAND WIN– good Lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

"What did he catch the Snitch for?" Ron bellowed, even though he was jumping up and down and applauding with his hands over his head. "He ended it when Ireland were a hundred and sixty points ahead, the idiot!"

"Bulgaria was never going to catch up, were they?" Henri asked. "Ireland was too good. Mind you, he was brave."

"Is Miss Henrietta developing a crush?" I asked her teasingly.

"What? No way. He's too old," she said.

"He's only eighteen," I told her.

"_What_?!" she exclaimed.

"Changing your mind?"

"Nope," she answered. "I'm too young for love."

The mediwizards had to battle through leprechauns and Veela to reach Krum. But now the leprechauns were zooming gleefully around the pitch. Krum refused to let the mediwizards clean him up. His team-mates were around him, looking dejected. The Irish team was dancing happily underneath a shower of gold provided by their mascots. The Irish national anthem came from all sides as the flags were waved. The Veela were beautiful once again, though dispirited and forlorn.

"Vell, ve fought bravely," said a gloomy voice behind us. I turned around, it was the Bulgarian Minister.

"You can speak English!" Fudge exclaimed, outraged. "And you've been letting me mime everything all day!"

"Vell, it vos very funny," the Bulgarian Minister said, shrugging.

"And as the Irish team perform a lap of honour, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!" Bagman roared.

I was suddenly blinded by a bright, white light, as the Top Box was magically illuminated so everyone else could see inside. Shielding my eyes, I turned towards the entrance where two panting wizards carried into the box a vast, golden cup, which they handed to Fudge, who still looked annoyed that he'd been using sign language all day for nothing.

"Let's have a hand for the gallant losers– Bulgaria!" Bagman shouted.

The seven defeated Bulgarian players came into the Top Box. The crowd applauded politely. Omnioculars flashed in our direction.

They filed between the rows of seats, and Bagman called their names out as the shook hands with their own Minister, and then Fudge. Last in line was Krum, and he looked like a real mess. Two black eyes were beginning to show on his bloody face. When Krum's name was called, the entire stadium gave him an ear-splitting roar.

And then the Irish team came next. Lynch was being supported by Connolly and Moran, he seemed dazed. His eyes seemed unfocused, but he smiled happily as Troy and Quigley lifted the Cup into the air, and the crowd bellowed their approval. My hands were starting to hurt from clapping so much.

When the Irish team had left the box to do another lap of honour on their brooms (Lynch on the back of Connolly's), Bagman pointed his wand as his throat and muttered, "_Quietus_."

"They'll be talking about this one for years," he said hoarsely, "a really unexpected twist, that… shame it couldn't have lasted longer… ah yes… yes, I owe you… how much?"

Fred and George had just climbed over their seats and where standing in front of Bagman with huge grins on their faces, and their hands outstretched.

* * *

**Author's Note: I know in the book it says the four hundred and twenty-second World Cup, but if you look in _Quidditch Through The Ages_, it says the World Cup is held every four years, which makes one hundred and thirty-first right, technically.**


	22. Chapter 22: The Death Eaters

**Disclaimer: Will I ever? Not in a millions years. Maybe if I had the TARDIS, would that work?**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two  
The Death Eaters**

_Lizzie's POV_

"_Don't _tell your mother you've been gambling," Mr. Weasley told Fred and George as we made our way down the purple-carpeted stairs.

"Don't worry, Dad," Fred said gleefully, "we've got big plans for this money."

Mr. Weasley looked as though he was going to ask what these plans were, but decided he didn't want to know.

We were soon caught up in the crowd now flooding out of the stadium, and back to their campsites. Boisterous singing reached our ears as we retraced our steps along the lantern-lit path, and leprechauns kept shooting above us, cackling and waving their lanterns. When we had finally reached the tents, no one felt like sleeping. Not like we could with all the noise around us. So, Mum and Mr. Weasley agreed we could have one last cup of cocoa before turning in. Soon enough, we were all arguing enjoyably about the match. Harry and I argued about Wronski Feints, while Mr. Weasley and Charlie got into a disagreements about cobbing; Mum, Henri, and Hermione also got into argument about Wronski Feints– whether or not they should be legal. When Ginny and Emma fell asleep at the table did Mum and Mr. Weasley say it was time for bed. We bade the boys goodnight and left the tent. We changed into our pyjamas, and I climbed onto the bunk above Henri. I leaned over the edge to talk to her.

"So, what d'you think of the match?" I whispered.

"I can still hear you, Elizabeth," Mum said, from the other end of the room, "go to sleep."

I laid back down. You could still hear singing coming from the other end of the campsite, and the odd leprechaun flew overhead. I pictured myself on the English team… a hundred thousand people cheering as my name was called…

"Liz, 'Lizabeth," Mum called. "Elizabeth, come on, get up! This is important!"

"'S still dark out," I mumbled, sitting up. "What's goin' on?"

I listened to outside. The sounds had changed. Instead of singing there was screaming, and people running. I slid from the bunk, and threw my denim jacket back on. Mum was waking up Hermione and Ginny now.

"Henri," I said, shaking her. "Henrietta, there's something wrong. Wake up!"

"I don't wanna go to school today, Jo," she muttered sleepily.

"Henri, you're not at home! Come on, wake up! This is urgent!"

Finally, her eyes snapped open. "Wuzzgoinon?" she asked.

"Dunno, Mum woke me up," I answered, looking over at Mum. She had successfully woken up Sarah, but Emmy was a different story.

"Em, Em, come on, wake up. Emma-Lynn Potter, get up this _instant_!" Mum shouted. Emma didn't even stir.

"Oh, well, I'll just have to carry her out," Mum said, sitting her up. I handed her Emma's jumper, and Mum put it on her. Henri and I headed out of the tent. We rushed over to the boys. People were running away into the woods, running from something that moving across the field towards us, something that was emanating odd flashes of light, and noises like someone Apparating. Loud jeering, howls of laughter, and drunken shouts were drifting towards us; then there was a burst of strong, green light, which lit up the scene.

A crowd of wizards, bunched and moving together with wands pointing straight up, was marching slowly across the field. The wizards were hooded and their faces masked. High above them, floating in mid-air, four struggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes. Two of the figures were very small.

More wizards joined the group, laughing and pointing at the bodies. Tents crumpled and fell as the crowed grew. A couple of times, I saw one of the marchers blast a tent out of his way.

The floating people were suddenly illuminated as they passed over a burning tent, I recognised one of them as Mr. Roberts, our site manager. The other three seemed to be his wife and children. One of the marchers flipped Mrs. Roberts upside-down; her nightdress fell down to reveal voluminous drawers. She struggled to cover herself up as the crowd below her hooted and screeched with delight.

"That's sick," Ron muttered, as the smallest Muggle child began to spin like a top, his head flopping side to side limply. "That is really sick…"

Hermione, Ginny, and Sarah hurried over to us, pulling coats on, with Mr. Weasley and Mum right behind them. Mum was carrying Emma-Lynn. At the same time, Bill, Charlie, and Percy emerged from the boys' tent, fully dressed, with their sleeves rolled up, and their wands out.

"We're going to help the Ministry," Mr. Weasley shouted over the noise, rolling up his own sleeves. "You lot– get into the woods, and _stick together_. We'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out!"

Bill, Charlie, and Percy were already sprinting towards the group; Mr. Weasley tore after them. Mum put Emma on her feet, and handed me her glasses. She leaned onto me. I almost fell over; Henri caught me. I looked at her. Her hazel eyes were open, but unfocused. Oh, yeah. Glasses. I put them on her. She blinked.

"Oh. What's going on?" she asked, perplexed. Can't she see what's going on? Oh, wait… she's facing the forest. I spun her around.

"Oh," she repeated.

"Come on, you need to move. Dire situation here. We don't want to be in their path," I said.

"But I'm still so tired," she answered.

"Just walk," I told her.

"C'mon," Fred said, grabbing Ginny's hand, and started pulling her towards the woods. The rest of us followed. Henri tugged Sarah along, while I tugged Emma. I didn't want to yank her arm off, or out of its socket, so, I went at her pace. She was moving as fast as her tired body would take her.

"Come on, Emmy," I pleaded. "Faster. Everyone's waiting on us, and they're still miles ahead."

"Do you want a piggyback ride, Emma?" a voice behind said. I turned it, it was George.

"Yeah!" Emma said enthusiastically.

"But you're ten years old! You _can _walk," I protested.

"What choice do we have, Liz? Her body's too tired to do much else," George reasoned.

"Ugh… fine," I said. He bent down so she could climb on his back. Once George had stood up again, she looked down at me, and stuck out her tongue. We joined the rest of the group in a minute, now that I could walk at my own pace. We all looked back once we had reached the trees. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was bigger than ever. We could see the Ministry wizards trying to get into the centre with great difficulty. It looked as if the Ministry was scared to perform any spell that might make the Roberts family fall.

The lanterns that had lit the path earlier had been extinguished. Dark figures were blundering through the trees; children were crying; worried shouts and panicked voices sounded in the cold night air. I was pushed here and there by people, whose faces I couldn't see. I stayed close to the twins who I could just see thanks to their red hair. Sarah and Emmy were harder to see thanks to their jet black hair.

"Hey Harry," I said, suddenly remembering something, when were a little bit into the woods, "did you see Sirius when the Veela first came out? I don't suppose you did, because you were too busy preparing jumping out of the Top Box."

There was no answer.

"Harry?" I called uncertainly. "_Lumos_!" I looked around. I couldn't see Harry. "Harry?" I called a little louder. Still no answer.

"Hermione?" Ginny called out, pausing for a second. She lit her wand, too. "Hermione? Ron?"

No one answered. A loud bang went off, and several people screamed. "Let's keep moving," Fred said. "They'll catch up, probably got stuck behind a large crowd."

We continued on, wands out and lit, keeping an eye out for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The path was packed with plenty of people, all looking back nervously at the campsite. A little further along, there was a group of arguing teenagers. One of the girls turned to us.

"_Oû est Madame Maxime_? _Nous l'avons perdue_–"

"_Je ne sais pas. Je parle anglais, et un peu français_," Henri interrupted.

"'Ogwarts?" the girl asked.

"_Oui_. Beauxbatons?"

"_Oui_," the girl answered, and she turned back to her group.

"Where'd you learn French?" I asked.

"I did go to Muggle school for six years," Henri answered.

"Come on," Fred said. We continued down the path. We passed a group of goblins, and trio of Veela. We came to a small off of the path.

"Why don't we just wait here?" I suggested. "We can still here what's going on at the campsite, and we're not completely alone. Still close to the path."

"All right," Fred said. The words were barely out of his mouth when we heard rustling. We pointed our wands in that direction. A lone figure stumbled out of the bushes.

"Liz?" a very familiar voice called. "Henri? Ginny? Fred? George? Sarah?"

"Rhiannon?" I asked in disbelief. She ran over and gave me a hug. I released her, and kept her at arm's length. "What happened to you? You look a terrible mess."

It was true. Her dark hair contained twigs and leaves, and her face contained dirt and blood.

"Might've tripped a few times, and hit a tree branch when I was running," she answered. "Never mind that. Where're Harry, Ron, and Hermione? And Emma?"

"I'm here," Emma called from George's back.

"We lost the others in the dark," I told her. "Y'know, there's a reason they invented _Lumos_."

"Would you believe I left my wand in my tent?" she asked, half-smiling.

"Rhiannon, you idiot," I said.

"I know, I know," she said. "Where's Lily?"

"Helping the Ministry with Mr. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, and Percy," I replied. "Same with Sirius?"

"You know Dad, he never backs away from a fight," she said.

"So, did he snap back to his senses when you smacked him?" I asked, grinning.

"Oh yeah," she answered, laughing. "He was red in the face, told me to forget what I saw. I was like, 'I'm _way_ ahead of you.' What did your brother do?"

"He was about to jump out of the box, until Hermione pulled back down," I answered. "Mum bet five Galleons on the match."

"_Lily _was gambling? Will wonders never cease? Wow, wait 'til Dad and Remus hear that. Lily'll never hear the end of it," Rhiannon said.

All was quiet at the campsite.

"Maybe we should head back now," Henri suggested. Fred and George nodded their agreement. We set off towards the campsite once more. We were halfway there, when suddenly everything was illuminated with an eerie green light. Suddenly, screams came from everywhere in the wood. We looked up. I gasped, horrified. In the sky, was a colossal green skull, composed of emerald stars, with a snake coming out of its mouth. It had risen high enough to illuminate the entire woods.

* * *

_Henri's POV_

"Back to the tent!" Lizzie shouted. I could see the real terror in her eyes, she wasn't terrified, until now. "_Now_!"

"Why?" I asked.

"Why? Didn't you hear the screams?" she asked, spinning to face me. I was taken aback by her sudden change in attitude.

"It's nothing, just a sign in the sky," I said, not exactly understanding what I was missing. I could tell I had said something wrong, because I received four exasperated looks of disbelief.

"_That_," Lizzie said, pointing at the sky, "is the Dark Mark. It's _Voldemort's _sign. In all those books you've read, you've never come across it?"

I shook my head. "I stayed away from any books about the Dark Arts."

"Well, that doesn't matter at the moment. We have to get Rhiannon to the tent before she goes into– too late," Lizzie said, and the she swore under her breath. She walked over to Rhiannon. Rhiannon was looking at the Dark Mark with a far away look.

"Rhiannon," Lizzie said gently, Rhiannon turned to look at her, with tears in her eyes.

"I see it all the time," she whispered. "In my dreams. And I never really understood, until now." I saw a tear roll down her cheek.

"I know," Lizzie said, in the same gentle voice. "But it's not _him_, and _she's _been locked up in Azkaban for the last eleven years."

Rhiannon wiped the single tear away. "I know, being stupid," she said, with a half-laugh.

"No, you're not, you've seen something no kid should've saw," Lizzie told her. "Come on, then, you're coming back to our tent."

That's thing about Lizzie and Rhiannon, you always feel you're missing something. They grew up together, so Lizzie knows how to deal with her, and Rhiannon knows how to deal with Lizzie. I'm assuming this has something to do with Rhiannon's mother's death. I glanced at Sarah and Emma, who probably were as much at a loss as I was at what _exactly _the skull represented. But they seemed to understand, that if Lizzie was telling them to get the heck out of here, we should.

* * *

_Lizzie's POV_

With Rhiannon back to her senses, I grabbed Sarah, and pulled her along. "Come on, Henri, let's go back to the tent. Mum'll be able to explain." We sprinted towards the campsite. There were a group of people at the entrance, probably waiting for Ministry officials. We pushed our way through the group. It was quiet, and several tents were ruined, and smoking still. Finally, we made it back to the tents. We headed into the boys', only to find Bill, Charlie, and Percy in there. Bill was sitting at the kitchen table, holding a sheet to his arm, which was bleed profusely. Charlie had a large rip in his shirt, and Percy had a bloody nose.

"Rhiannon, these are Ginny's older brothers– Bill and Charlie. Bill, Charlie, this is our friend, Rhiannon Black," I introduced.

"Pleasure to meet you," Bill said.

"Likewise," Rhiannon answered, sitting down. I sat next to her, pulling leaves and twigs out of her hair. Henri sat on her other side, and did the same thing.

"And people say I'm the clumsy one," I muttered.

"Ha-ha," Rhiannon said sarcastically.

"I don't believe, she's gone back to sleep!" George exclaimed, after depositing Emma on a chair. "After all that, and she's gone back to sleep!"

"Well, that's Emma for you," I said, as Sarah took of Emma's glasses. "You know that feast after the Chamber of Secrets, she fell asleep halfway through that too."

"Where's Lily?" Henri asked, just as Fred asked, "Where's Dad?"

"They both Apparated with the rest of the Ministry to where the Dark Mark was cast. Where're the others?" Bill asked.

"We lost them in the dark," Henri replied. Charlie went to the tent entrance to keep an eye out for the adults. About ten minutes later, he spoke.

"Dad, what's going on?" he called. "Fred, George, Ginny, Lizzie, Henri, Sarah, and Emma got back okay, but the others–"

"I've got them here," Mr. Weasley said, entering the tent. Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered after him, followed by Mum and Sirius.

"Rhiannon!" Sirius exclaimed.

"Hey, Dad," she grinned.

"What in the name of Merlin happened to you?" he asked.

"She's as clumsy as me," I answered. I wasn't really clumsy, but if I was in an unfamiliar place or it was dark, I could be dead clumsy.

"Did you get them, Dad?" Bill asked sharply. "The person who conjured the Mark?"

"No," Mr. Weasley answered. "We found Barty Crouch's elf holding Harry's wand, but we're none the wiser about who actually conjured the Mark."

"_What_?" Bill, Charlie, Percy, and Henri said together.

"Harry's wand?" Fred, Rhiannon, and I said.

"_Mr. Crouch's elf_?" Percy asked, sounding thunder-struck.

With some help from Harry, Ron, and Hermione, Mr. Weasley, Mum, and Sirius explained how the Ministry Stunners hit Winky, how she was caught with the wand, how she was interrogated by Mr. Diggory, how Mr. Crouch sacked her. At the end of their story, Percy swelled indignantly.

"Well, Mr. Crouch is quite right to get rid of an elf like that!" he said. "Running away when he expressly told her not to… embarrassing him in front of the whole Ministry… how would that have looked, if she'd been had up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control–"

"She didn't do anything– she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!" Hermione snapped at Percy, who looked very taken aback.

"Hermione, a wizard in Mr. Crouch's position can't afford a house-elf who's going to run amok with a wand!" Percy said pompously.

"She didn't run amok!" Hermione shouted. "She just picked it up off the ground!"

"Look, can someone just explain what that skull thing was?" Ron said impatiently. "It wasn't hurting anyone… why's it such a big deal?"

Unbelievable, he has exactly Henri's attitude towards it.

"I told you, it's You-Know-Who's symbol, Ron," Hermione answered before anyone else could. "I read about it in _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_."

"And it hasn't been seen for eleven years," Mr. Weasley answered quietly. "Of course people panicked… it was almost like seeing You-Know-Who back again."

"I don't get it," Ron said, frowning. "I mean… it's still only a shape in the sky…"

"Ron, Voldemort and his followers sent the Dark Mark into the air whenever they killed," Mum said. "The fear it inspired. You have no idea. Just imagine coming home, and find it hovering above your house, know what you're about to find…" Mum was quiet, and closed her eyes for a moment. "Everyone's worst fear… the very worst…"

She was watching Sirius and Rhiannon, both who were avoiding eye contact with anyone. There was silence for a moment.

Bill, removing the sheet to check on his cut, said, "Well, it didn't help us tonight, whoever conjured it. It scared the Death Eaters away the moment they saw it. They all Disapparated before we'd got near enough to unmask any of them. We caught the Robertses before they hit the ground, though. They're having their memories modified right now."

"Death Eaters? What're Death Eaters?" Sarah asked, perplexed.

"It's what You-Know-Who's supporters called themselves," Bill answered. "I think we saw what's left of them tonight– the ones who managed to keep out of Azkaban, anyway."

"We can't prove it was them, Bill," Mr. Weasley said. "Though it probably was," he added.

"Yeah, I bet it was!" Ron said suddenly. "Dad, we met Draco Malfoy in the woods, and he as good as told us his dad was one of those nutters in masks! And we all the Malfoys were right in with You-Know-Who!"

"But what were Voldemort's supporters–" Harry began. Like when Mum said, the Weasleys, and Hermione flinched– just like the rest of the wizarding world. " Sorry," Harry said quickly. "What were You-Know-Who's supports up to, levitating Muggles? I mean, what was the point?"

"The point?" Mr. Weasley repeated, with a hollow laugh. "Harry, that's their idea of fun. Half the Muggle killings back when You-Know-Who was in power were done for fun. I suppose they had a few drinks tonight, and couldn't resist reminding us all that lots of them are still at large. A nice little reunion for them," he finished disgustedly.

"But if they _were_ Death Eaters, why did they all Disapparate when they saw the Dark Mark?" Ron asked. "They'd have been pleased to see it, wouldn't they?"

"Use your brains, Ron," Bill said. "If they really were Death Eaters, they worked really hard to keep themselves out of Azkaban when You-Know-Who lost power, and told all sorts of lies about him forcing them to kill and torture people. I bet they'd be even more frightened than the rest of us to see him come back. They denied they'd ever been involved with him when he lost his powers, and went back to their daily lives… I don't reckon he'd be over-pleased with them, do you?"

"So… whoever conjured the Dark Mark…" Hermione said slowly, "were they doing it to show support for the Death Eaters, or to scare them away?"

"Your guess is as good ours, Hermione," Sirius said. "But I'll tell you this… it was only the Death Eaters who ever knew how to conjure it. It'd be very surprising if the person who conjured it hadn't been a Death Eater once."

"Listen, it's very late, and if your mother hears what's happened, she'll be worried sick. We'll get a few more hours' sleep, and get an early Portkey out of here," Mr. Weasley said.

"Come on, Rhiannon," Sirius said, "you can clean up at our tent. 'Night."

"Sirius, do me a favour," Mum said. "Carry Emma over to the other tent, she's too exhausted to stay awake."

Sirius walked over to Emma and picked her up, and exited the tent, with Mum following close behind. For the second time, we bade the boys goodnight, and headed over to our tent. Sirius had already put Emma on her bed when we entered. Mum yanked off her shoes, pulled off her jumper, and tucked her in.

"See you on your birthday?" Rhiannon asked.

"Don't you know it," I answered. Her and Sirius said goodnight, and left.

"Where's your wand?" I heard Sirius ask.

"I left it in the tent," she answered.

"What am I going to do with you?" he asked her before Disapparating.

I shrugged off my jacket, kicked off my shoes, and climbed into my bed. I passed out the minute my head hit the pillow. It was three in the morning, after all.

* * *

**Author's Note: I wrote this in one day, and stayed up way later than I should've to make sure I finished it. Now, if you excuse me, I can't feel my leg.**


	23. Chapter 23: Mayhem and a Party

**Author's Note: I wanted to put this up yesterday, but my Internet connection was in 'screw you' mode. So, here we are, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: In my dreams, it is real. In reality, it is fictitional. I'm not the genius who created it.**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Three  
****Mayhem and a Party**

_Lizzie's POV  
__The Next Day_

Mum woke us up after a few hours of sleep. Mr. Weasley used magic to pack up the tents, and we left the campsite as quickly as possible, passing Mr. Roberts. He had a dazed look about him, and he waved us off with a vague 'Merry Christmas.'

"He'll be all right," Mr. Weasley said quietly, as we walked across the moor. "Sometimes, when a person's memory's modified, it makes them a bit disoriented for a while… and that was a big thing they had to make him forget."

We heard urgent voices as we reached where the Portkeys were, and when we got there, found a big crowd of witches and wizards surrounding Basil. Mr. Weasley had a quick discussion with Basil; we joined the queue, and were able to take an old rubber tire back to Stoatshead Hill before the sun had risen. We walked through Ottery St. Catchpole towards The Burrow, barely talking because we were exhausted, and probably thinking, like me, of breakfast. As we rounded the corner in the lane, and The Burrow came into view, a cry echoed along the damp lane.

"Oh, thank goodness, thank goodness!"

Mrs. Weasley, who had obviously been waiting for us in the yard, came running towards us, still wearing her slippers, her face pale, and a crumpled copy of the _Daily Prophet _in her hand. "Arthur– I've been so worried– _so worried_–"

She flung her arms around Mr. Weasley, and the _Daily Prophet _fell to the ground. I looked down at it, and saw the headline: SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, complete with a sparkling, black and white photo of the Dark Mark above the trees.

"You're all right," Mrs. Weasley muttered distractedly, releasing Mr. Weasley, and staring round at us with red eyes, "you're alive… oh, _boys_…"

And to everyone's surprise, she seized Fred and George, and pulled them into a hug so tight, that their heads banged together.

"_Ouch_! Mum –you're strangling us–"

"I shouted at you before you left!" Mrs. Weasley said, starting to sob. "It's all I've been thinking about! What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough O.W.Ls? Oh, Fred… George…"

"Come on, now, Molly, we're all perfectly okay," Mr. Weasley said soothingly, prying her off the twins, and leading her to the house. "Bill," he added in an undertone. "pick up that paper, I want to see what it says…"

When we were all crammed into the tiny kitchen, and Hermione had made Mrs. Weasley a cup of tea with a shot of Odgens Old Firewhisky, Bill handed his father the paper. Mr. Weasley skimmed the front page, with Percy looked over his shoulder.

"I knew it," Mr. Weasley said seriously. "_Ministry blunders_… _culprits not apprehended_… _lax security_… _Dark wizards running unchecked_… _national disgrace_… Who wrote this? Ah… of course… Rita Skeeter."

"That woman's got it in for the Ministry of Magic!" Percy said angrily. "Last week she was saying we're wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness, when we should be stamping out vampires! As if it wasn't _specifically _stated in paragraph twelve of the _Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans_–"

"Do us a favour, Perce," Bill said, yawning, "and shut up."

"I'm mentioned," Mr. Weasley said, his eyes widening.

"Where?" Mrs. Weasley spluttered, choking on her tea (and whisky). "If I'd seen that, I'd have known you were alive!"

"Not by name," Mr. Weasley clarified. "Listen to this: '_If the terrified wizards and witches, who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged some time after the appearance of the Dark Mark, alleging that nobody had been hurt, but refusing to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumours that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later, remains to be seen_.' Oh, really," Mr. Weasley said exasperatedly, handing the paper to Percy. "Nobody _was_ hurt, what was I supposed to say? '_Rumours that several bodies were removed from the woods_…' well, there certainly will be now she's printed that."

He sighed. "Molly, I'm going to have to go into the office, this is going to take some smoothing over."

"I'll come with you, Father," Percy said importantly. "Mr. Crouch will need all hands on deck. And I can give him my cauldron report in person."

He left the kitchen.

Mrs. Weasley looked very upset. "Arthur, you're supposed to be on holiday! This hasn't got anything to do with your office, surely they can handle this without you?"

"I've got to go, Molly," Mr. Weasley said, "I've made things worse. I'll just change my robes, and I'll be off…"

He, too, left the kitchen.

"Molly, you don't mind if Rhiannon comes over this week during the day, do you?" Mum asked. "It's just that Sirius works for the Department of Magical Games and Sports, and he'll have to go in after today, and Rhiannon usually comes over to my house, but with Lizzie and Henri staying here…"

"Oh, I don't mind, of course she can over," Mrs. Weasley said. "I'd invite her to stay, but I'm not sure as to where to put her."

"That's okay, she likes spending time with her dad," Mum assured her.

"All right if I go and dump my stuff in your room, Ron?" Harry asked.

"Yeah… think I will too," Ron said at once. "Hermione?"

"Yes," she answered quickly, and the three of them left the kitchen.

"Why don't the four of you go put your stuff away? Em, Liz, Sarah, and Henri?" Mum said. "Then we really ought to be going."

"At least stay for breakfast and lunch," Mrs. Weasley said immediately.

"Oh, I couldn't," Mum said half-heartedly. "I wouldn't want to be a bother."

"You're not a bother, Lily," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Oh, all right," Mum relented. Henri and I stood up.

"Coming Ginny?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said, standing up. We left the kitchen, and up the stairs. When we reached Ginny's room, we emptied our rucksacks, and stuffed their contents into our trunks.

"So… what was up with Rhiannon and the Dark Mark?" Henri asked. I sat on my bed; Ginny and Henri sat on theirs.

"When Melody was murdered, Sirius went back a few hours later with Rhiannon, to get clothes and such. He didn't want to bring Rhiannon, but she bawled every time Sirius left the room. Anyway, the Dark Mark was above their house when Sirius returned. Bellatrix was gone, some Ministry members were there, they tried to keep out Sirius, but he explained he'd witnessed the murder. Which clarified some things for the Ministry, like why Rhiannon wasn't there, they thought she had been kidnapped. But Sirius broke down the minute he entered the sitting room, a Ministry witch who knew Melody held Rhiannon, while Sirius cried. The witch was crying too, and so was Rhiannon. She didn't know what the Dark Mark really stood for until last night," I finished.

"Poor Rhiannon," Henri said. "Was there a Dark Mark above your house when…"

"Nah, Voldemort went in alone," I said. "It was a job he only entrusted to himself."

We could hear people running up and down the stairs. Ginny walked over to the door, and poked her head out.

"What're you doing?" she asked.

"Going to play Quidditch," answered Ron's voice. "And you're not invited."

"I didn't ask to be," she snapped, shutting her door, and turned to us. "I've been breaking into the broom shed since I was six, and practising."

"Why won't they let you play?" I asked.

"Because I'm a _girl_," she answered.

"You should come over to our house to play," I told her. "Harry's the only boy unless Sirius is over, and even then, we kick ass."

_

* * *

_

Lizzie's POV

_August 31, 1994_

My week at The Burrow was fun. Rhiannon would come over at the time she woke up –eleven o'clock– and leave after dinner. When the boys weren't playing Quidditch, we snuck onto the orchard and played two-on-two, or practised different moves. But, finally, it was my thirteenth birthday. I had already got a present from Ginny, Henri, Harry, Rhiannon and Sirius, when Rhee had arrived, and Mrs. Weasley had made me some fudge. Mum had told us to come over around one thirty, and for the Weasleys and Hermione to bring swimsuits. Bill and Charlie had been invited to come along with us kids, but Mrs. Weasley had opted to wait until dinner to come over, which she meant she knew what was going on.

So, at half past one, we were lined up next to the fireplace. Harry was to go first, followed by me, then Henri, Rhiannon, Ginny, Hermione, Ron, the twins, Bill, and Charlie. Harry left, followed by me. When I arrived home, Harry and I moved my trunk out of the way. When everyone had arrived, Mum entered the room. I could see Hermione eyeing our two room high bookshelves.

"Harry, Liz, why don't you show everyone where they'll be sleeping?" she suggested, before turning to our guests. "I hope you all brought your swimsuits, thought you might enjoy a swim later." Bill, Charlie, and Hermione turned to look at her; they had been staring at our spacious living room.

"Hermione," I said, I could tell she was itching to run over to the shelves, "you can read later." We carried our trunks over to the stairs, and with Bill and Charlie's help, carried them up the stairs. I had instructed the twins to leave their trunks by the stairs as they were staying in the basement. Bill, Charlie, Ginny, and Hermione gaped at the infinite number of doors.

"Can we have the guided tour?" Charlie asked.

"All right," I said. I pointed to the nearest room. The door was open. "That is the washroom. This," I strode to the next door, and opened it, to reveal a Gryffindor red room, "is the guest room where Hermione and Ginny will be spending the night. Next to theirs is Henri's, then Emma's, and finally Harry's, in which Ron will also be sleeping. At the end of the corridor is Mum's room, complete with en-suite bathroom. Across from Harry, is my room where Rhiannon will be bunking, and next to mine is Sarah's, followed by a closet stocked with pillows and blankets, but probably not anymore. Well, that concludes our tour of the upstairs," I finished.

"If everyone but Fred and George knows where they're staying, change into your swimsuit if you already haven't done so," Mum called. Everyone but Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, Hermione, and I went into a room.

"Lizzie, I don't have a swimsuit," Hermione whispered.

"No problem," I told her. "The closet, at the very back."

"If you gentlemen would follow me," I said, leading the way back downstairs. I turned right, and led the way into the basement. Bill and Charlie helped their brothers with their trunks. "This way," I said, leading them to the spare room, where Mum had put a bunk bed, and a desk. "This is your accommodations, the bathroom is over there. There is a small library over there, a recreation room, a living room, and also a laundry room. Please enjoy your stay, we expect you upstairs in ten minutes."

I returned upstairs, leaving Bill and Charlie on the main floor, and headed to my room to change. Ten minutes later, we were all on the main floor, unsure with what Mum wanted to do with us.

"Mum?" I called uncertainly.

"In here," she answered from the kitchen. We went into the kitchen. Mum was standing at the back door with a dozen buckets behind her. "Seeing as it's such a nice day, I thought we could have a water balloon fight. You each will get a bucket. Each bucket contains two hundred water balloons. Line up, youngest to oldest, and kick your shoes off here."

We lined up as Mum told us, and when she handed us a bucket, she bewitched the colour to match that of our swimsuit.

"The village is next to the ocean?" Hermione asked, once we were outside, and placing ourselves strategically in our large backyard (though it would never compare to the Weasleys').

"Channel, actually," I corrected her. Mum came out. "Where are we swimming? The Channel or the pool?"

"The pool," Mum answered, "there's supposed to be a storm coming later. Okay, on the count of three, let the fight begin. One. Two. Three!"

_

* * *

_

Normal POV

Lizzie found herself the target of twelve balloons, and managed to dodge all but one, which burst on her hip.

"Rhee!" she exclaimed.

"How'd you know it was me?" she asked. "I mean, it wasn't me!"

Lizzie threw a balloon at her, and it burst on her shoulder.

"Merlin Liz! That's freezing!" she squealed.

"Good!" Lizzie retorted, dodging a double attack from the twins.

The fight escalated, and about half an hour later, everyone was chasing Harry, the only one who was still dry. The next thing everyone knew was, suddenly, Harry was there, and next he wasn't. All anyone ever saw was a streak of red colliding with Harry. When they caught up to where Harry was, they found him on the ground, with Lizzie pinning him. Lizzie had tackled him to the ground. "Get him!" she shouted, getting up, and holding him to the ground with her foot placed on his back. A dozen water balloons were thrown onto Harry.

"That's not fair!" Harry protested, now sopping wet.

"No," Lizzie corrected, "what's not fair, is you being the only dry one when the rest of us are soaking wet."

She released him from the ground, and the fight resumed. When Sirius and Remus arrived, they were ambushed at the gate. When there were no more balloons left, Lily brought towels out for everyone, and suggested the put dry clothes on, and return to the kitchen in twenty minutes for dinner. When everyone had returned to the kitchen, they found Mrs. Weasley and Percy had joined them. Lily led them to the dining room.

"How come I've never been in here?" Henri asked as they entered the large room. The room contained one long table set for eighteen. There was a fireplace, and one wall was nothing but a giant window. It had begun to rain, and within five minutes, it was pouring. Lily waved the curtains shut, and lit the fire and lamps.

"Umm… sit wherever you like," Lily told them as she took her seat. "Help yourselves."

Conversation steered to the Ministry as Mrs. Weasley repeatedly apologized for Mr. Weasley's absence.

"Arthur hasn't had to go into the office this late since the days of You-Know-Who," Mrs. Weasley said. "They're working them far too hard."

"Well, Father feels he's got to make up for his mistake at the match, doesn't he?" Percy said, from next to Mrs. Weasley. "If truth be told, he was a tad unwise to make a public statement without clearing it with his Head of Department first–"

"Don't you dare blame your father for what that wretched Skeeter woman wrote!" Mrs. Weasley said, flaring up.

"If Dad hadn't said anything, old Rita would just have said it was disgraceful that nobody from the Ministry had commented," Bill said reasonably. "Rita Skeeter never makes anyone look good. Remember, she interviewed all the Gringotts' curse-breakers once, and called me a 'long-haired pillock'?"

"Well, it _is _a bit long, dear," Mrs. Weasley said gently. "If you'd just let me–"

"_No_, Mum."

Desert was ice cream, and cake. It was now half-past six. Lily cleared the table, and made a plate for Mr. Weasley. After, everyone retired to the sitting room. Hermione immediately darted to the bookshelf. Lily and Mrs. Weasley talked, Bill and Ron had a game of chess, Harry brought his Firebolt down, and his Broomstick Servicing Kit, Rhiannon, and Liz brought down their brooms too, and Liz brought her own Kit, which Harry had given her today. Henri brought a book she was reading, and Charlie found a book on dragons in mythology, and snorted at all the incorrect information. Ginny mended her copy of _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_. And Fred and George were bent over a piece of parchment, whispering.

"What are you two up to?" Mrs. Weasley asked sharply.

"Homework," Fred said vaguely.

"Don't be ridiculous, you're still on holiday," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Yeah, we've left it a bit late," George said.

"You're not by any chance writing a new _order form_, are you?" Mrs. Weasley said shrewdly. "You wouldn't be thinking of restarting _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes_, by any chance?"

"Now, Mum," Fred said, looking up at her with a pained expression. "If the Hogwarts Express crashed tomorrow, and George and I died, how would you feel knowing that the last thing we ever heard from you was an unfounded accusation?"

Everyone laughed, including Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh, look at the time!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. "Arthur'll be home soon. Thanks for dinner, Lily. It certainly makes a difference, not having to cook once in awhile."

"It was no problem, Molly," Lily said.

"Well, come on, boys," Mrs. Weasley said to her three eldest sons. "Not too late, all right?" she told the younger four.

"Why don't you all go make sure you have everything you need? Molly brought your things from Diagon Alley, and freshly laundered clothes. They'll be on your beds," Lily said. The kids said their goodbyes, and went up (or down) to their rooms. When Lizzie and Rhiannon entered Lizzie's room, they found their stuff from Diagon Alley just as Lily had said.

"Mrs. Weasley did your shopping too?" Lizzie asked, surprised.

"The letter was meant for Lily," Rhiannon explained, "but Mercury wouldn't look for Lily, because the address was written as The Burrow. So, I wrote a neutral letter in case Mrs. Weasley would get it instead. On our list were dress robes, and I didn't really want to buy those with Dad. Oh, look, she took some gold out of our vaults for us."

They began unwrapping their shopping. Their potion-making kits had been refilled, they had new quills, parchment, new ink, and five new books: _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 3)_, _Intermediate Transfiguration_, _Numerology and Grammatica_, _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_, and _Ancient Runes Made Easy_.

"Why did we take Ancient Runes and Arithmancy?" Rhiannon asked.

"Because we didn't want to take Divination," Lizzie answered.

"Yeah, well, we could've just taken Care of Magical Creatures and left it at that," Rhiannon said.

"Well, I wanted Mum off my back, and the only reason I didn't take Muggle Studies was, because Mum's Muggle-born," Lizzie said.

"True, and Remus," Rhiannon agreed. "Hey, this isn't mine." Rhiannon held up a copy of _Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles_.

"Must be Ginny's," Lizzie said. "C'mon, let's return it to her."

They were about to leave Lizzie's room, when Mrs. Weasley came past them with a pile of Hogwarts robes. She was about to knock when Ron opened the door. He was holding something that looked like a maroon, velvet dress. It had a mouldy-looking lace frill at the collar, and matching lace cuffs.

"Here you are, I forgot to bring them with me the first time," Mrs. Weasley said, sorting the pile into two, "Now, mind you pack them properly so they don't crease."

"Mum, you've given me Ginny's new dress," Ron said.

"Of course I haven't. That's for you. Dress robes," Mrs. Weasley said.

"_What_?" Ron said, horrified.

"Dress robes!" Mrs. Weasley repeated. "It says on your school list that you're supposed to have dress robes this year… robes for formal occasions."

"You've got to be kidding," Ron said in disbelief. "I'm not wearing that, no way."

"Everyone wears them, Ron!" Mrs. Weasley said irritably. "They're all like that! Your father's got some for smart parties!"

"I'll go starkers before I put that on!" Ron said stubbornly.

"Don't be so silly," Mrs. Weasley said, "you've got to have dress robes, they're on your list! I got some for Harry, too… show him, Harry…"

There was silence for a few minutes as Harry unwrapped his dress robes.

"I thought they'd bring out the colour of your eyes, dear," Mrs. Weasley said fondly.

"Well, they're okay!" Ron said angrily. "Why couldn't I have some like that?"

"Because… well, I had to get yours second-hand, and there wasn't a lot of choice," Mrs.

Weasley said, reddening.

"I'm never wearing them," Ron said stubbornly. "Never.

"Fine," Mrs. Weasley snapped. "Go naked. And Harry, make sure you get a picture. Goodness knows I could to with a laugh."

She left, and Ron slammed the door behind her.

"Umm… wanna see what our robes look like?" Lizzie asked Rhiannon.

"Definitely," Rhiannon said, closing the door. They rushed over to their respective beds, and tore open their last package. They both breathed in relief. Lizzie's robes were aqua in colour, and Rhiannon's were a dark red.

"Aw. I wanted violet," Rhiannon said.

"Red looks good with your hair," Lizzie told her. "Shall we go and see what Ginny and Henri's robes look like?"

"Yes," Rhiannon answered immediately. They dashed out of the room, and knocked on Henri's door.

"What?" she asked.

"Dress robes, what do yours look like?" Lizzie asked.

"Hang on," she said, closing the door. She returned a minute later, holding robes of sky blue. "What're yours like?"

"Mine are dark red," Rhiannon answered. "And Liz's are aqua."

"Cool," Henri said, she glanced down, and noticed a book in Rhiannon's hands. "I thought you weren't taking Muggle Studies."

"Huh? I'm not. Oh, Ginny's book," Rhiannon said. "Come on, Liz."

They left Henri, and knocked on the guest room's door.

"Gin? I have your Muggle Studies book," Rhiannon called. The door opened. It was Ginny and Hermione.

"Thanks," Ginny said, taking the book from Rhiannon. "What colour are your robes?"

"Aqua, and dark red. Yours?" Lizzie asked.

"Mine are a dark brown, and Hermione's are periwinkle."

"If you want to go swimming, change into your swimsuit, and come down here, or up," Lily yelled. Lizzie and Rhiannon immediately ran back to their room to change. They opened their door at the same time as everyone else. They charged downstairs, and met Lily and Fred and George. Lily handed Harry and Emma contacts.

"Why do you wear glasses if you can wear contacts?" Hermione asked Harry.

"I like glasses better, but I can't wear them when I'm swimming, and I can't see without them, so…"

"I'm going to get towels, you guys can go in," Lily said, heading upstairs.

"Um… Liz? Where _exactly_ are we swimming?" Ginny asked.

"In here," Lizzie answered, walking across the living room, to the only other door, and opened it. The Weasleys and Hermione followed close behind. She held the door open as the Weasleys, her siblings, Henri, Rhiannon, and Hermione filed past her.

"You have an _indoor swimming pool_?" the twins exclaimed.

"Next you're going to tell us you have a Jacuzzi," George said.

"We do, actually," Henri said, "it's out back. Charmed so you have to enter it to see it."

The pool ranged from the three feet to nine feet in depth, and was equivalent to the size of a public swimming pool.

"Stop gawking, and jump in!" Rhiannon called from the diving board. She was wearing goggles. She did a cannonball. Sarah and Emmy jumped in next followed Harry, Hermione, and Henri. Ginny touched the water hesitantly before diving in. Lizzie was contemplating the best way to dive in, when she felt herself picked up by the twins, and was tossed in. Expecting her to be cross, they were disappointed, however, when she surfaced laughing with everyone else.

"What did I miss?" Lily asked, coming in with a stack full of towels.

"Fred and George just tossed Lizzie in the pool," Henri explained.

"Did they now?" Lily asked, before jumping in the pool herself.

The played Marco Polo, showed off with different dives and jumps, raced each other, and see who could make the biggest splash. No one was sure who won.

At twenty to twelve, Lily announced it was time to get out, and they could have one more slice of cake before bed. They got out of the pool, dried off, and changed into their pyjamas. They returned to the kitchen, and found Lily placing thirteen candles in a brand-new cake. At exactly one minute to twelve, Lizzie blew out her candles.

"Finally a teenager! How does it feel?" Harry asked.

"I dunno, do I? I've only been thirteen for thirty seconds," Lizzie said. Lily cut up the cake, and handed the slices around.

"You can all take a slice with you tomorrow," Lily told them. "It'll never get eaten between Emma and I."

Finally, at twelve thirty, they went to bed.

"_Don't _tell your mother I let you stay up this late, when we got to be up early tomorrow," Lily told the Weasleys. "Or have sugar at midnight. She might not let you come back."

* * *

**Author's Note: I've made sketches of the Potter household. I'll have them up next chapter with a direct link.**


	24. Chapter 24: The Train Ride

**Author's Note: I feel so bad, it's been a month and a half since I updated. School got in the way. Damn you, school!**

**Disclaimer: …I wish…**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Four  
The Train Ride**

_Lizzie's POV_  
_September 1, 1994_

Our house was sort of a madhouse this morning, and it was still raining. Mum made breakfast for everyone. After that, we went back to our rooms to get dressed and bring down our trunks. When we returned to the sitting room, Mum's head was in the fire, presumably yelling at Sirius to wake up, and get his arse over here.

"Sometimes I don't know about your father, Rhiannon," Mum told her, when Rhiannon walked by.

"It's okay, Lily, neither do I," Rhiannon answered.

At half past nine, we braved the rain to pack our trunks in the van. We were sopping wet by the time we got in to call Mr. and Mrs. Weasley over. Only Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie arrived.

"Where's Arthur and Percy, Molly?" Mum said.

"Arthur can't come, and he says sorry," Mrs. Weasley explained. "Amos Diggory came over this morning. Mad-Eye jinxed his dustbins and they fired rubbish everywhere, and the Muggle neighbours heard. Arthur's the only one who can get him his off."

Mum and Sirius groaned. "He's starting his new job today," Sirius said.

"Mad-Eye Moody?" George said thoughtfully. "Isn't that the nutter–"

"Your father thinks very highly of Mad-Eye Moody," Mrs. Weasley said sternly.

"Yeah, well, Dad collects plugs, doesn't he?" Fred said quietly, as Mum, Sirius, and Mrs. Weasley went into the hall. "Birds of a feather…"

"Moody was a great wizard in his time," Bill said.

"He's an old friend of Dumbledore's, isn't he?" Charlie said.

"Dumbledore's not what you'd call _normal_, though, is he?" Fred said. "I mean, I know he's a genius and everything…"

"Who exactly _is _Mad-Eye Moody?" Henri asked.

"He's retired, used to work at the Ministry," Charlie explained. "I met him once when Dad took me into work with him. He was an Auror– one of the best… Half the cells of Azkaban are filled because of him. He made himself loads of enemies, though… the families of people caught, mainly… I heard he's been getting really paranoid in his old age. Doesn't trust anyone anymore. Sees Dark wizards everywhere."

"Are you kids coming or what?" Mum called.

"Are you giving us the option to _not _go to school?" I asked hopefully.

"Only in your dreams, Elizabeth," Mum answered.

"It was worth a try," I said as we headed out into the hall, and into the rain. The van was a dark red, and normally seated seven. But enter a capable witch, and you could easily fit sixteen people. Mum, Sirius, Mrs. Weasley sat in the front. Bill, Charlie, the twins, and my sisters sat in the middle, and the rest of sat in the back. The ride was quieter than you would expect it would be with sixteen people in the vehicle. We also had our owls, and Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, in the back with us. We arrived at King's Cross with a half an hour to spare. We gladly tumbled out, but the rain was coming down worse than ever. We hurried into the station, but not before we got soaked.

My friends and I had to go onto the platform first as we were the most conspicuous with three owls. We leant casually against the barrier between platforms nine and ten, chatting unconcernedly, and fell through the barrier. We set off to find a compartment, and found one near the end of the train. We stowed our trunks in the luggage racks, and jumped off to say goodbye to everyone.

"I might be seeing you sooner than you all think," Charlie said, grinning, as he hugged Ginny goodbye.

"Why?" Fred asked keenly.

"You'll see," Charlie replied. "Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it… it's 'classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it', after all."

"Yeah, I sort of wish I was back Hogwarts this year," Bill said.

"_Why_?" George asked impatiently.

"You're going to have an interesting year," Bill said, his eyes twinkling. "I might even get time off to watch a bit of it."

"A bit of _what_?"

But at that exact moment, the whistle blew, and Mum and Mrs. Weasley chivvied us towards the train doors.

"Thanks for having us to stay, Lily," Hermione said, as we climbed on board, closed the door, and leant out of the window to talk.

"Yeah, thanks," the four youngest Weasleys added.

"It was nothing," Mum said. "It's about time I had the amount of people that place can hold in it."

"I'd invite you home for Christmas, but I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with… one thing and another," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Mum!" Ron exclaimed irritably. "What d'you five know that we don't?"

"You'll find out this evening, I expect," Mrs. Weasley said, smiling. "It's going to be very exciting– mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules–"

"What rules?" Harry, Ron, Fred, George, Sarah, Rhiannon, Henri, and I said together.

"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you… now, behave, won't you? _Won't _you, Fred? And you, George?"

"_And _you, Elizabeth. You, too, Henri, and Sarah," Mum added.

"I can't believe I'm actually going to say this, but, behave yourself, Rhiannon," Sirius said.

"What?" she asked, surprised. "You're _actually _telling me to _behave_ myself?"

"Just this year," he said.

"I'm not sure I can manage that," she told him.

The pistons hissed, and the train began to move.

"Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts!" Fred bellowed. "What rules are changing?"

No one answered, but continued to wave. Before the train had even rounded the corner, they all Disapparated. Rhiannon, Ginny, Henri, and I headed back to our compartment.

"Dad's known about it for months," Rhiannon said sourly, once we had sat down, "and he won't even tell me."

"Well, it has to be dangerous, whatever it is, if Sirius is telling you to behave," I said.

"Wonder what it could be?" Henri said, wonderingly. "Ah, if only Mr. Crouch hadn't interrupted Bagman, we'd already know…"

Several of our friends and classmates looked in on us as the afternoon wore on. Most had been to the Quidditch World Cup. We were just telling them when the compartment door slid open, revealing the only three Slytherin girls in our year, Alison Drummond, Sorcha Ferguson, and Enid Lloyd.

"_You_ were in the Top Box?" Alison Drummond sneered.

"I don't remember inviting _you_, Drummond, or you, Ferguson, or you, Lloyd," I snapped.

"I wasn't talking to you, Potter," Drummond snapped. "I was talking to Weasley."

"Oh, am I no longer lowly enough that I can be graced with your presence? Tell me what I did, so I can fix it," Ginny retorted. Yeah, these three consider themselves all princesses, they're all rich, and makes sure everyone knows it. Their problem with Rhee and I is we're rich too, even if we don't like making it known, because we are above it.

"I don't recall seeing you in the Top Box," I said, "or were you Disillusioned so you didn't scare off the Bulgarians?"

"Shut up, Potter," Lloyd barked.

"Ooh, really witty, Lloyd," Henri sneered. "It must've taken you the whole conversation to come up with it."

We're usually not really mean, but these three call for it, they're not walking all over us.

"Stay out of it, Mudblood," Ferguson said. Rhiannon was on her feet.

"This conversation is over," Rhiannon growled. "Don't come back unless you're going to apologise, but I doubt that is going to happen, so… see you!"

She slammed the door shut. "Why do all Slytherins have to be gits?"

Soon, it was time to change into our robes. We didn't talk much for the rest of the ride. Finally, the Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade station, and came to a stop.

As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder. We left the train with our heads down, and eyes narrowed against the downpour. It felt as though we were being dumped with buckets, and buckets of ice-cold water.

"Hey, Hagrid!" I shouted, spotting Hagrid at the end of the platform.

"Hey, Liz," he shouted back, waving. "See yeh later, if we don' drown!"

"You're still going to cross the lake in this weather?" Rhiannon bellowed. "In those little boats?"

"Have ter get them ter Hogwarts somehow, Rhiannon," Hagrid yelled. "There aren' enough carriages."

"All right, then," I shouted. "Don't drown. I'm looking forward to your Care of Magical Creatures class. See you, Hagrid."

We joined the crowd inching over to the carriages. They were waiting for us, just outside the station. We climbed gratefully into one. The door snapped shut, and a few minutes later, we were on our way to Hogwarts.

* * *

**Author's Note: Just a short, little chapter. The next one **_**will**_** be longer.**


	25. Chapter 25: The Tournament

**Disclaimer: In the words of Neville Longbottom, '…when Hell freezes over.'**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Five  
****The Tournament**

_Lizzie's POV  
__The Start-of-Term Feast_

The carriages finally came to stop at Hogwarts. We left our carriages, heads bent, and sprinted up the steps, into the Entrance Hall.

"Merlin, I'm bloody well soaked, and I've only been outside for ten minutes," Rhiannon said, wiping her hair out of her eyes.

"Join the club," I muttered. I love the rain, but this is bloody ridiculous.

"ARGH!" Henri yelled, and she and Ginny knocked into Rhee and me. A large, yellow water balloon dropped from the ceiling and burst on Henri's shoulder. We all looked up.

"PEEVES!" we yelled simultaneously. He chucked two balloons into our direction. We dived out of the way, and into the Great Hall.

The Great Hall was decorated for the start-of-term feast as usual. There were hundreds and hundreds of lit candles. We walked past the Slytherins, the Hufflepuffs, and the Ravenclaws, and sat down next to Alex Branton and Luke Delaney.

"So, how was your summer?" Alex asked.

"Great. Went to the World Cup. You?" I said, emptying my shoes of water, and wringing out my socks. Damn poltergeist.

"Yeah, I went too. What did you think of the Death Eaters turning up?"

"Positively terrifying," I said with a straight face.

"Really?" Luke asked.

"No," I said, with a laugh, "'course not. Though they could've picked a more decent time to wake the entire campsite up."

"Too true," Alex agreed. "How about you, Rhiannon?"

"She did the same as Lizzie did," Luke said. "Inseparable, they are."

"How'd you know?" Rhiannon asked teasingly.

"Lucky guess," Luke answered, with a slight smile.

"Well, that's not fair, is it?" Rhiannon asked, playfully.

"Why?" Luke asked.

"Aren't all Irish lucky?" Rhiannon said, but she got no further.

The doors to the Great Hall opened, and Professor McGonagall strode in with drenched first years following in her wake. All were shivering as they lined up in front of the High Table, and faced the rest of the school. The smallest of the lot was wearing Hagrid's moleskin overcoat. He looked like he was Colin's younger brother. McGonagall placed the three-legged stool down, and placed the Sorting Hat upon it. The first years stared at it. Then, a tear near the brim opened like a mouth, and the Hat broke into song:

"_A thousand years or more ago,  
__When I was newly sewn,  
__There lived four wizards of renown,  
__Whose names are still well known:  
__Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,  
__Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,  
__Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,  
__Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.  
__They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,  
__They hatched a daring plan  
__To educate young sorcerers  
__Thus Hogwarts School began.  
__Now each of these four founders  
__Formed their own house, for each  
__Did value different virtues  
__In the ones they had to teach.  
__By Gryffindor, the bravest were  
__Prized beyond the rest;  
__For Ravenclaw, the cleverest  
__Would always be the best;  
__For Hufflepuff, hard workers were  
__Most worthy of admission;  
__And power-hungry Slytherin  
__Loved those of great ambition.  
__While still alive they did divide  
__Their favourites from the throng,  
__Yet how to choose the worthy ones  
__When they were dead and gone?  
_'_Twas Gryffindor who found the way,  
__He whipped me off his head  
__The founders put some brains in me  
__So I could choose instead!  
__Now slip me snug about your ears,  
__I've never yet been wrong,  
__I'll have a look inside your mind  
__And tell where you belong!_'

The Great Hall burst into applause as the Sorting Hat finished. McGonagall unrolled a large scroll of parchment.

"When I call out your name, you will put on the Hat, and sit on the stool," she instructed the first years. "When the Hat announces your house, you will go and sit at the appropriate table.

"Ackerley, Stewart!"

A boy walked forward, visibly shaking from head to toe. He put the Hat on, and sat on the stool.

"_Ravenclaw_!" the Hat shouted.

Ackerley took the Hat off, and scurried over to the Ravenclaw table, who were applauding loudly.

"Baddock, Malcolm!"

"_Slytherin_!"

Fred and George hissed as Baddock sat down. Literally.

"Branstone, Eleanor!"

"_Hufflepuff_!"

"Cauldwell, Owen!"

"_Hufflepuff_!"

"Creevey, Dennis!"

The boy who I assumed to be Colin's brother stepped forward. Hagrid slipped into the Hall, and sat at the staff table.

"_Gryffindor_!"

Hagrid clapped with the rest of us. Dennis took the Hat off, and placed it back on the stool. He joined his brother.

"Colin, I fell in!" he said shrilly. "It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and pushed me back in the boat."

"Cool!" Colin said, just as excited. "It was probably the giant squid, Dennis!"

"_Wow_!" Dennis said, as though nobody in their wildest dream could hope for a more 'exciting' way to arrive at school.

"Dennis! Dennis! See that boy down there? The one with the black hair and glasses? See him? _Know who he is, Dennis_?"

"Dobbs, Emma!"

"_Ravenclaw_!"

The line slowly diminished as McGonagall reached the 'M's.

"Madley, Laura!"

"_Hufflepuff_!"

"McDonald, Natalie!"

"_Gryffindor_!"

"I'm starving," Rhiannon moaned.

"I know, me too," I said.

"You two are always hungry," Henri said.

"And your point is?" I asked.

"I have none," Henri said.

"Pritchard, Graham!"

"_Slytherin_!"

"Quirke, Orla!"

"_Ravenclaw_!"

Finally, with 'Whitby, Kevin!' who was made a Hufflepuff, the Sorting finished. McGonagall picked up the Hat and the stool, and took them away.

Dumbledore got to his feet. He smiled, and his arms opened wide in welcome.

"I only have two words to say to you," he said to us. "_Tuck in_."

"About bloody time!" Rhiannon and I exclaimed simultaneously. We loaded our plates with everything we liked, and had finished before Henri and Ginny even started.

"I swear you two are worse than boys sometimes. No offence," she added to Alex and Luke.

"None taken," Alex said, loading his plate at the same pace as Henri.

"Fanks," I managed to say through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"I meant it as an insult, not as a compliment," Henri said obviously.

I swallowed the mouthful of potato. "I know," I said cheerily.

"You are so weird sometimes," Henri said, turning her attention to her dinner.

Ginny looked up from hers. "Sometimes? Don't you mean all the time?"

"Ha ha, very funny," I said drily.

"What else did you do this summer?" Alex asked.

"Not much else, drove my mum mad, most likely," I answered.

"Rhiannon?" Luke inquired.

"This and that," she said evasively.

"Henri?" Alex asked.

"Same as Lizzie," she replied.

"Ginny?"

"Avoided _all _of my brothers," she answered. That got a laugh out of Alex and Luke.

"My sister, Bridget, is starting here next year," Luke said.

"Oh, really?" I said.

"Yeah, she's all excited. I'm not," Luke replied. "I've spent all summer trying to talk them into sending her to school in Canada."

"Why Canada?" Henri asked.

"Because it's far away," Luke said, "but they wouldn't buy it."

"Hey, Lizzie, isn't your youngest sister starting next year, too?" Alex asked.

"Yup," I said. "She says she can't wait to see everyone again, or Gryffindor Tower, but she's hoping Snape retires at the end of the year."

That got a laugh. "Tell her so does everyone else," Alex answered.

"We could always poison him," Rhiannon suggested.

"Rhee, he's the _Potions Master_, I'm sure he's got antidotes in his office," Henri said.

"Damn," Rhee said. "We could always sneak up on him, and slit his throat."

"We could decapitate him," Luke submitted.

"Too messy," I said, "and he'd be able to join the Headless Hunt when Nick can't."

"Who says he'd come back as a ghost?" Ginny asked.

"Who's to say he wouldn't?" I retorted.

"Fair point," she agreed. "We could always push him off the Astronomy Tower?"

"How about hanging him from the ceiling of his own dungeon?" Alex added.

"We could always burn him alive, like they did at the Salem Witch Trials, but take away his wand," Henri put in.

"Hmm… impalement?" I said.

"Ooh! Crucifixion or electrocution," Henri said excitedly. "Oh, wait… only Muggles know what those are. Darn."

"Disembowelment?"

"Dismemberment?"

"We could always stab him?"

"We could hire an executioner."

"We could, or we could kill him in his sleep."

"What if he wakes up, then, _we're_ the ones who will die."

"The Killing Curse?"

"Too painless, we want him to die painfully."

"Suffocation?"

Our planning of Snape's death continued, each idea more ludicrous than the last.

"Axe murderer?"

"Death by Bludger?"

"Death by Salamander?"

"By pixie?"

"By Plimpy?"

"Death by Puffskein?"

"I know, death by Flobberworm!" Rhiannon exclaimed. We immediately burst out laughing.

"Death by Flobberworm?" I managed to choke out once I stopped laughing.

"Yes, we'll lock him a tub of them," she said.

"Hmm… that could work," I said teasingly. "If you have bloody ten years of patience."

When the puddings had been devoured, and the plates back to their sparkling clean, Dumbledore stood up. The chatter immediately died away throughout the Hall, and only the howling of the wind and rain could be heard.

"So!" Dumbledore said, smiling round at all of us. "Now that we're all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched.

"As ever, I would like to remind you all that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year.

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the inter-house Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"_What_?" I heard Harry gasp.

"_What_?" I nearly shrieked. I turned to look at Fred and George. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore. I _love _Quidditch. This isn't fair. It had better be for a good reason.

"This is due to an event that will be starting in October," Dumbledore continued, "and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy– but I'm sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts–"

Just then, there was a deafening clap of thunder, and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning against a long staff, wearing a black travelling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall turned to the stranger, suddenly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of dark grey hair, and began to walk towards the High Table.

A dull _clunk_ echoed throughout the Hall with every other step. He reached the end of the staff table, and turned right towards Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning lit the ceiling. Henri gasped next to me.

The lightning had lit the man's face entirely. It wasn't like any face I've ever seen. Every inch was scarred. The mouth seemed to be a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of his nose was missing. His eyes, however, gave him a frightening look.

One was small, dark, and beady. The other, was large, round, and a vivid blue. The blue eye moved non-stop, without blinking, and rolling around very independently.

He had reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand as scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words I couldn't hear. He seemed to be asking the stranger something, who shook his head, and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore gestured to the empty seat next to him.

The man sat down, shook his hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages towards him, raised it to his nose, and sniffed it. He took a small knife out of his pocket, and speared at the end of a sausage, and began to eat. His normal eyed looked at the sausages, but his blue eye darted around its socket ceaselessly, taking in the Hall and students.

"May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," Dumbledore said brightly, smiling at us yet again. "Professor Moody."

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted by applause, but neither students nor staff save for Hagrid and Dumbledore actually clapped. Both applauded, but the sound echoed off the walls, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone appeared too transfixed by Moody's appearance to do anything else.

"Moody? As in _Mad-Eye Moody_, who everyone was talking about this morning?" Henri asked.

"Yup," Rhiannon and I answered.

"What happened to him?" Henri asked.

"Dunno," I replied.

Moody didn't seem to mind his less-than-enthusiastic welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached into his travelling cloak again, and withdrew a flask, and took a long drink from it. His cloak raised a few inches off the ground, and under the table, I could see inches of a carved, wooden leg ending in a clawed foot.

Dumbledore cleared his throat again.

"As I was saying," Dumbledore said, still smiling at us, though everyone was still looking at Moody, "we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event which has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" Fred said loudly.

The tension that had filled the Hall since Moody's arrival suddenly broke.

Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore even chuckled.

"I am _not _joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though, now you when mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all got into a bar–"

McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Er– but maybe this is not the time …no…" Dumbledore said. "Where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament… well, some of you will not know what this Tournament involves, so I hope those who _do_ know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago, as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry– Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the Tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities– until the death toll mounted so high that the Tournament was discontinued."

"_Death toll_?" I heard Hermione whisper. But her anxiety didn't seem to be shared by the rest of the students. Many students were whispering amongst themselves, and I wanted to hear more about the Tournament itself.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which have been very successful. However, our own Departments of International Magical Co-operation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that, this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.

"The Heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders with in October, and the selection of the three champions at Hallowe'en. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousands Galleons personal prize money."

"I'm going for it!" Fred hissed down the table. His face was lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and money. He was not only one; at every house table, people were gazing at Dumbledore with the utmost attention, or whispering fervently to friends. But Dumbledore began to speak again, and the Hall quietened.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts, the Heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age –that is to say, seventeen years or older– will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This–" Dumbledore raised his voice slightly as people made angry outbursts, and the Weasley twins looked furious. "–is a measure we feel necessary, given that the Tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion. I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen.

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October, and remaining with us for the greater part for of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Dumbledore sat down again, and turned to talk to Moody. There was scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet, and headed towards the double doors into the Entrance Hall.

"They can't do that!" George exclaimed, who hadn't joined the throng moving towards the doors, as we passed. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?"

"They're not stopping me entering," Fred said stubbornly. "The champions'll get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!"

Rhiannon and I stopped. "Yeah," Ron said, with a faraway look. "Yeah, a thousand Galleons…"

"Come on," Hermione said, "we'll be the only ones left here if you don't move."

Rhiannon, Harry, Fred, George, Ron, Hermione, and I set off for the Entrance Hall, Fred and George debating ways Dumbledore might stop those under seventeen from entering the Tournament.

"Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?" Harry asked.

"Dunno," Fred replied, "but it's them we'll have to fool. I reckon a couple of drops of Ageing Potion might do it, George…"

"Dumbledore knows you're not of age, though," Ron pointed out.

"Yeah, but he's not the one who decides who the champion is, is he?" Fred said shrewdly. "Sounds to me like once this judge knows who wants to enter, he'll choose the best from each school, and never mind how old they are. Dumbledore's trying to stop us giving our names."

"People have died, though!" Hermione said anxiously, as we through a door concealed by a tapestry, and started up a narrow staircase.

"Yeah," Fred said airily, "but that was years ago, wasn't it? Anyway, where's the fun without a bit of risk? Hey, Ron, what if we find out how to get round Dumbledore? Fancy entering?"

"What d'you reckon?" Ron asked Harry. "Be cool to enter, wouldn't it? But I s'pose they might want someone older… dunno if we've learned enough…"

"I definitely haven't," Neville said gloomily behind Fred and George. "I expect my gran'd want me to try, thought, she's always going on about how I should be upholding the family honour. I'll just have to– oops…"

Neville's foot had sunk right through a step halfway up the staircase. There were many trick staircases at Hogwarts, it was second nature to older students to jump this particular step, but Neville's memory was extremely poor. Harry and Ron seized him underneath his armpits, and yanked him out, while a suit of armour at the top of the stairs creaked, laughing wheezily.

"Shut it, you," Ron said, banging down its visor as we passed. We made our way to Gryffindor Tower, which was hidden behind a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink, silk dress.

"Password?" she asked as we approached.

"Balderdash," George replied, "a Prefect downstairs told me."

The portrait swung forwards to reveal the portrait hole, we all climbed through. A crackling fire was warming the common room, which was full of squashy armchairs and tables. Hermione gave the fire a dark look, and I could've sworn I heard her mutter 'slave labour', before saying goodnight, and heading up to the girls' dormitories.

"Night," Rhiannon and I said, heading upstairs also. We climbed the stairs until we reached our dormitory. Gwen and Ailsa were already in bed, and Ginny and Henri were just getting in.

"Going to enter?" Henri asked, looking suspicious.

"No, thirteen's a bit too young to die, isn't it?" I asked.

"Good," Henri said. "I was worried you were plotting with the twins on how to enter."

"Henri, would we do a thing like that?" Rhiannon asked innocently.

"Oh, I don't know about you two sometimes," Henri asked, beginning to pull her curtains shut. "Goodnight."

"Night," I replied, putting on my pyjamas, and climbing into bed. "G'night, Rhee."

"Night, Liz," she replied sleepily. I fell asleep with visions of being seventeen and the Hogwarts champion dancing in my head.

* * *

**Author's Note: There's noting I can say that will make this acceptable. I know it's been two years and I'm so, so sorry. To those of you who have read this since the beginning, thank you! Thanks for sticking with me. There are so many unworthy excuses as to why this update is so late and I'm only going to give you one. I started focusing on my original work. So sorry again and hopefully you have forgiven me and that this was worth the wait. If not, you may come after me. I give you my permission.**


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